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MEDITATIONS 



AND 



CONTEMPLATIONS. 



IN TWO VOLUMES. 



COKTAINING, 

VOLUME I VOLUME IL 



Meditations among the 

Tombs ; 
Reflections on a Flower- 

Garden ; 

and, 
A Descant upon Creation. 



Contemplations on the 

Night; 
Contemplations on the Starry 

Heavens ; 

an^y 
A Winter Piece. 



BY JAMES HERVET, A. M. 

LATE RRCTOR OF WESTON-FAVELL, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE' 

TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 



BRATTLEBOROUGH : 
PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM FESSEIfDEN. 

1814! 



iii«i 



3VH-?31 



PREFACE. 



THE first of these occasional meditations begs leave 
to remind my readers of their latter end ; and would in- 
vite them to set, not their houses only, but which is inex- 
pressibly more needful, their souls, in order : that they 
may be able, through all the intermediate stages, to look 
forward upon their approaching exit, without any anxious 
apprehensions ; and, when the great change commences, 
may bid adieu to terrestrial things, with all the calmness 
of a cheerful resignation, with all the comforts of a well- 
grounded faith. 

The other attempts to sketch out some little traces of 
the all-sufficiency of our Redeemer, for the grand and gra- 
cious purposes of everlasting salvation ; that a sense of 
his unuUerable dignity, and infinite perfections, may in- 
cite us to regard him with the most profound veneration ; 
to long for an assured interest in his merits, with all the 
ardency of desire ; and to trust in his powerful mediation, 
with an affiance not to be shaken by any temptations, not 
to be shared with any performances of our own. 

I flatter myself, that the thoughts conceived among the 
tombs, may be welcome to the serious and humane ndnd : 
because, as there are few who have not consigned the re- 
mains of some dear relations, or honored friends, to those 
silent repositories ; so there are none but must be sensi- 
ble, that this is the house appointed for all living ; and 
that they themselves are shortly to remove into the same 
solemn mansions.— And who would not [turn aside for a 
v/hile, from the most favorite am.usements, to view the 
place v/here his once-loved companions lie ? who would 
not sometimes survey those apartments, v;here he him- 
self is to take up an abode, till time shall be no more. 

As to the other little essay, may I not humbly presume, 
that the very subject itself will recommend the remarks ? 



t9. PREFACE. 

For who is not delighted with the prospect of the blooming 
creation, and even charmed with the delicate attraction of 
flowers ? Who does hot covet to assemble them in the 
garden, or wear them in a nosegay ? Since this is a pas- 
sion so universal, who would not be willing to render it 
productive of the sublimest improvement ? — This piece 
of holy frugality I have ventured to suggest, and endeavor- 
ed to exemplify, in the second letter ; that, while the hand 
is croppii:ig the transient beauties of a flower, the atten- 
tive mind may be enriching itself with solid and lasting 
good. — And I cannot but entertain some pleasing hopes 
that the nicest taste may receive and relish religious im- 
pressions, when they are conveyed by such lovely moni- 
tors ; when the insti^uctive lessons are found, not on the 
leaves of some formidable folio, but stand legible on the 
fine sarcenet or narcissus; when they savour not of the- 
lamp and recluse, but come breathing from the fragrant 
bosQm of a jonquil. 



TO MISS R- 



MADAM5 

THESE reflections, the one on the deepest, the other 
on the gayest scenes of Nature, when they proceeded pri- 
vately from the pen, were addressed to a lady of the most 
valuable endowments ; who crowned all her other endear- 
ing qualities, by a fervent love of Christ, and an exempla- 
ry conformity to his divine pattern. She alas ! lives no 
longeron eaith, unless it be in the honors of a distinguished 
character, and in the bleeding remembrance of her ac- 
quamtance. 

It is impossible, Madam, to wish you a richer blessing 
or a more substantial happiness, than that the same spirit 
of unfeigned faith, the same course of undefiled religion, 
which have enabled her to triumph over death, may both 
animate and adorn your life. And you will permit me to 
declare, that my chief inducement in requesting your ac- 
ceptance t)f the following meditations, now they make a 
public appearance from the press, is, that they are design- 
ed to cultivate the same sacred principle, and to promote 
the same excellent practice. 

Long, Madam, may you bloom in all the vivacity and 
amiableness of youth, like the charming subject of one of 
these contemplations. But at the same time remember, 
that, with regard to such inferior accomplishments, you 
must one day fade (may it prove some very remote peri- 
od !) like the mournful objects of the other. This consid- 
eration will prompt you to go on as you have begun, in 
adding the meekness of wisdom, and all the beauties of 
holiness, to tlie graces of an engaging person, and the re- 
finement of a polite education. 

And might — O i might the ensuing hints furnish you 
with the least assistance, in prosecuting so desirable an 
end ; might they contribute, in any degree, to establish 
your faith, or elevate your devotion ; they vrould* then, 
adftinister to the author such a satisfaction? as applause 
A 2 



I 



VI. DEDICATION. 

cannot give, nor censure take away : a satisfaction, which 
I should be able to enjoy, even in those awful moments, 
when all that captivates the eye is sinking in darkness, 
and every glory of this lower world disappearing for 
ever. 

These wishes, Madam, as they are a most agreeable 
employ of my thoughts, so they come attended with this 
additional circumstance of pleasure, that they are also the 
sincerest expression of that very great esteem, with which 
lam* 

Madam, 

Your most obedient, 

most humble servant, 

JAMES HERVEY. 

Weston^Favell, near Northamfiton^ \ 
May 20, 1746. 5 



VERSES TO Mr. HERVEY 

ON HIS 

MEDITATIONS. 



IN these lov'd scenes, what rapt'rous graces shine,. 
Lire in each leaf, and breathe in ev'ry line ! 
What sacred beauties beam throughout the whole, 
To charm the sense and steal upon the soul I 
In classic elegance, and thoughts — his own. 
We see our faults, as in a mirror shown ; 
Eeach truth, in glaring characters exprest; 
All own the twin resemblance in their breast : 
His easy periods, and persuasive page, 
At once amend, and entertain the age : 
Nature's wide fields all open to his view. 
He charms the mind with something ever new : 
On fancy's pinions, his advent'rous soul 
Wantons unbounded, and pervades the whole : 
From death's dark caverns in the earth below, 
To spheres, where planets roll, or comets glow. 

See him explore, with more than human eyes, 
. The dreary sepulchre, where Granville lies : 
Converse with stones, or monumental brass. 
The rude inscriptions — or the painted glass : 
To gloomy vaults descend with awful tread, 
And view the silent mansions of the dead. 

To gayer scenes the next adapts his lines. 
Where lavished Nature in embroid'ry shines : 
The jess'mine groves, the woodbine's fragrant boWrs, 
With all the painted family of flow'rs ; 
There, Sacharissa! in each fleeting grace, 
Read all the transient honors of thy face. 



[ viii J 

With equal dignity, now see him rise 
To paint the sable horrors of the skies. 
When all the wide horizon lies in shade. 
And midnight phantoms sweep along the glade : 
All nature hush'd — a solemn silence reigns, 
And scarce a breeze disturbs the sleeping plains. 

Last, yet not less, in majesty of phrase, * "^' 
He draws the full-orb'd moon's expansive blaze ; 
The waving meteors, trembling from on high, 
With ail the mute artill'iy of the sky : 
Systems en systems, which in order roll, 
And dart their lam.bent beams from pole to pole. 

Hail, mighty genius 1 whose excursive soul 
No bounds confine, no limits can control : 
Whose eye expatiates, and whose mind can rove, 
Thro' earth, thro' aether, and the realms above : 
From things inanimate can direct the rod,* 
In just gradation, to ascend to God. 
Taught by thy lines, see hoary age grows wise. 
An3 all the rebel in his bosom dies ; 
E'en thoughtless youth, in luxury of blood, 
Fly the infectious world, and dare — be good ; 
Thy sacred truths shall reach th' impervious heart; 
Discord shall cease, disease forget to smart; 
E'en malice love, and calumny commend ; 
Pride beg an alms, and av'rice turn a friend. 

Centred in Christ, who fires the soul within, 
The flesh shall know no pain ; the soul no sin: 
E'en in the terrors of expiring breath. 
We bless the friendly stroke, and live — in death. 

Oxford^ Jfiril 28, 1 748. 



BY A PHYSICIAN. 

CELESTIAL Meditant ! whose ardors rise 
Deep from the tombs, and kindle to the skies ; 
How shall an earthly bard's profaner string 
Resound the flights of thy seraphic wing ? 

* An allusion to the custon^ of shewing carious objects, and par- 
tieularizing their respective delicacies, by the pointing of a /cd. 



[ix] 

When great Elijah, in the fiery car, 
Flam*d visible to heav'n, a living star, 
A seer remained to thunder what he knew, 
And with iiis mantle caught his spirit tco. 

Wit, fancy, fire, and elegance, have long 
Been lost in vicious or ignoble song : 
Sunk from the chastely grand, the pure sublime, 
They flatter'd wealth and pow'r, or murder'd time. 
'Tis thine their devious lustre to reduce. 
To prove their noblest pow^'r, their genuine use ; 
From earth-born fumes to clear their tainted aim, 
And point their flight to heav'n— from whence they came. 

O more than bard in prose ! to whom belong * 
Harmonious style and thought, in rhymeless song ; 
Oft, by thy friendly conduct, let me tread 
The softly-whisp*ring mansions of the dead : 
Where the grim form, calcining hinds and lords, 
Grins at each fond distinction pride records. 
Dumb, ^vith immortal energy they teach ; 
Lifeless, they threaten : mould'ring as they preach 
To each succeeding age, thro' ev'r/ clime-. 
The span of life, and endless round of time : 
Hence may propitious melancholy flow, 
And safety find me in the vaults of woe. 

While ev'ry virtue forms thy mental feast, 
I glow with fair sincerity at least : 
I feel (thy face unknown) thy heart refin'd, 
And taste, with bliss, the beauties of thy mind ; 
Collecting clearly, thro' thy sacred plan. 
What reverence of God ! what love to man ! 
— Oh ! when at last our deathless forms shall risCj 
And flow'rs and stars desist to moralize; 
Shall then my soul, by thine informed, survey, 
And bear the splendors of essential day ? 
But v.'hile my thoughts indulge the glorious scope, 
(My utmost worth beneath my humblest hope) 
Conscience, or sonie exhorting angel, cries, 
'* No lazy wishes reach above the skies, 
^^ Would you indeed the perfect scenes survey, 
'^ And share the triumphs of unbounded day ; 
^^ His love-difl'usive life with ardor live ; 
^' And die like this divine contemplative." ^ 

London^ July 9, 1748. 



[X] 

BY A PHYSICIAN. 

TO form the taste, and raise the nobler part, 
To mend the morals, and to warm the heart; 
To trace the genial source, we Nature call, 
And prove the God of Nature friend of all ; 
Hervey for this his mental landscape drew. 
And sketch'd the whole creation out to view. 

Th' enamellM bloom, and variegated flow'r, 
Whose crimson changes with the changing hour : 
The humble shrub, whose fragrance scents the morn^ 
With buds disclosing to the early dawn ; 
The oaks that grace Britannia's mountain side, 
And spicy Lebanon's superior pride ;* 
All loudly sov'reign excellence proclaim, 
And animated worlds confess the same. 

The azure fields that form th' extended sky, 
The planetary globes that roll on high, 
And solar orbs, of proudest blaze, combine. 
To act subservient to the great design, 
JVlen, angels, seraphs, join the gen'ral voice : 
And in the Lord of Nature all rejoice. 

His, the grey winter's venerable guise, 
Its shrowded glories, and instructive skies ;t 
His, the snov/'s plumes, that brood the sickening blade t 
His, the bright pendant that impearls the glade ; 
The waving forest, or the whisp'ring brake ; 
The surging billow, or the sleeping lake. 
The same, who pours the beauties of the spring, 
Or mounts the whu'lwind's desolating wing. 
The same, who smiles in Nature's peaceful form. 
Frowns in the tempest, and directs the storm. 

'Tis thine, bright teacher, to improve the age ; 
'Tis thine, v, hose life's a comment on thy page : 
Thy happy page 1 whose periods sweetly flow. 
Whose figures charm us, and whose colors glow; 
Where artless piety pervades the whole, 
Refines the genius, and exalts the soul. 
For let the witling argue all he can. 
It is religion still that makes the man. 
'Tis this, my friend, that streaks our morning bright, 

* The Cedar. t Referring to the Winter-piece, 



[xi] 

'Tis this that gilds the horrors of our night. 
When wealth forsakes us, and when friends are few ; 
When friends are faithless, or when foes pursue : 
'Tis this, that wards the blow, or stills the smart ; 
Disarms affliction, or repels its dart ; 
Within the breast bids purest rapture rise ;] 
Bids smiling conscience spread her cloudless skies. 

When the storm thickens, and the thunder rolls. 
When the earth trembles to th' affrighted poles ; 
The virtuous mind, nor doubts nor fears assail ; 
For storms are zephyrs, or a gentler gale. 

And when disease obstructs the laboring breath. 
When the heart sickens,and each pulse is death; 
E'en then religion shall sustain the just, 
Grace their last moments, nor desert their dust, 

August 5 J 1748. 



AS some new star attracts th* admiring sight, 
His splendors pouring through the fields of lights 
Whose nights, delighted with th' unusual rays. 
On the fair heav'nly visitant we gaze. 
So thy fam'd volumes sweet surprise impart : 
Mark'd by all eyes, and felt in ev'ry heart. 
Nature inform'd by thee, new patlis has trod. 
And rises, here, a preacher for her God ; 
By fancy's aids, mysterious heights she tries^ 
And lures us by our senses, to the skies. 
To deck thy style collected graces throng, 
Bold as the pencil's tints, yet soft as song, 
In themes, how rich thy veins ! how pure thy choice I 
Transcripts of truths, own'd clear from scripture's voice % 
Thy judgment these, and piety attest, 
Transcripts—; — read only fairer in thy breast. 
There what t% works would shew, we best may see, 
And all they teach in doctrine, lives in thee. 

X) might they live !— Our prayers their strife engage; 
But thy fix'd languors yield us sad presage. 
In vain skilPd Med'cine tries her healing art : 
Disease, long foe; entrenches at thy heart. 



[ X" J 

Yet on new labors still thy mind is prone, 
For a world's good too thoughtless of thy own. 
Active, like day's kind orb, life's course you run, 
Its spheres still glorious, thro' a setting sun. 
Redemption opes thee wide her healing plan. 
Health's only balm ; her sov'reign'st gift to man. 
Themes sweet like these thy ardors fresh excite ; 
Warm at the soul, they nerve thy hand to write : 
Make thy try'd virtues in their charms appear, 
Patience, rais*d hope, firm faith, and love sincere : 
Like a big constellation, bright they glow. 
And beam out lovelier by thy night of woe. 

Known were thy merits to the public long. 
Ere own'd thus feebly in my humble song. 
Damp'd are my fires ; my heai-t dark cares depress y 
A heart, too feeling from its own distress. 
Proud on thy friendship, yet to build my fame, 
I gain'd my page* a sanction from thy name. 
Weak these returns (by gratitude tho' led) 
Where mine shall in thy fav'rite leaves be read. 
Yet o'er my conscious meanness hope prevails ; 
Love gives me merit, where my genius fails. 
On its strong base my small desert I raise. 
Averse to flattery as unskill'd to praise. 

MOSES BROWN. 

Mile-End Green,] 
J^eb.22, 1749. 



WHENCE flow these solemn sounds ? thb raptur'd 
strain ? 
Cherubic notes my wond'ring ear detain ! 
Yet 'tis a mortal's voice : 'Tis Hervey sings : 
Sublime he soars on contemplation's wings : 
In ev'ry period breathes ecstatic thought, 
HerveYj. 'twas Heav'n thy sacred lessons taught 
Celestial visions bless thy studious hours, 
Thy lonely walks, and thy sequester'd bow'rs. 

What favorite pow'r dispensing secret aids? 
• Sunday -Thoughts. 



[ xiii ] 

Thy cavern'd cell, thy curtain'd couch, pervades t 
Still hov'ringnear, observant of thy themes 
In whispers prompts thee, or inspires thy dreams ? 
Jesus ! effulgence of paternal Hght! 
Ineffably divine ! supremely bright ! 
Whose energy according worlds attest, 
Kindled these ardors in thy glowing breast. 
We catch thy flame, as we thy page peruse ; 
And faith inev'ry object Jesus views. 
We in the bloomy breathing garden trace 
Somewhat — like emanations of his grace : 
Yet must all sweetness and all beauty yield, 
Idume's grove, and Sharon*s flow'ry field, 
Compar'd with Jesus, meanly, meanly shows 
The brightest lily, faint the loveliest rose. 

Divine instructor ! lead thro' midnight glooms, 
To moralizing stars, and preaching tombs : 
Thro' the still void a Savior's voice shall break, 
A ray from Jacob's star the darkness streak : 
To him the fairest scenes their lustre owe : 
His cov'nant brightness the celestial bow ; 
His vast benevolence profusely spreads 
The yellow harvest and the verdant meads. 
Thy pupil, Hervey, a Redeemer finds 
In boundless oceans, and in viewless winds i 
He reins at will the furious blasts, and guides 
The rending tempest, and the roaring tides. , 
O give, my soul, thy welfare to his trust : 
Who rais'd the world, can raise thy sleeping dust ; 
He will, he will, when nature's course is run, 
'Midst falling stars, and an extinguish'd sun ; 
He will with myriads of his saints appear, 
O may I join them, tho' the meanest there ! 

Tho' nearer to the throne my Hervey sings ; 
Tho' I at humbler distance strike the strings; 
Yet both shall mingle in the same employ, 
Both drink the fulness of eternal j#y. 

JOHN DUICK. 

Clerkenwell Green^ 7 
i^ed. 24, 1749— 50^3 

B 



I 



[ xiv ] ' 

WHAT numbers of our race survey 
The monarch of the golden day, 
Night's ample canopy unfurl'd, 
In gloomy grandeur round the world, 
The earth in Spring's embroid'ry drest^ 
And ocean's ever-working breast • 
And still no grateful honors raise 
To him who spreads the spacious skies> 
Who hung the air- suspended ball, 
And lives, and reigns, and shines in all ! 

To chase our sensual fogs away, 
And bright to pour th' eternal ray 
Of Deity inscribed around 
Wide Nature to her utmost bound, 
Is Hervey's task : and well his skill 
Celestial can the task fulfil : 
Ascending from these scenes below- 
Ardent the Maker's praise to show^ 
His sacred contemplations soar. 
And teach pur wonder to adore. 

Now he surveys the realms beneath, 
The realms of horror, arid of death ; 
Now entertains his venal hours 
In flow'ry walks and blooming bowVs ; . 
Now hails the black-brow'd night, that brings 
^therial dews upon her wings ; 
Now marks the planets, as they roll 
On burning axles round the pole : 
While tombs, and fiow'rs, and shades, and starsj. 
Unveil their sacred characters 
Of justice, wisdom, pow'r and love ; 
And lift the soul to realms above, 
Where dweU§ the God, in giory crown'd, 
Who sends his boundless influence round. 

So Jacob, in his blissful dreams, 
Array'd in heaven's refulgent beams, 
-Saw from the ground a scale arise. 
Whose summit mingled with the skies : 
Angels were pleas'd to pass the road, 
The stage to earth, and path to God. 

Hervey, proceed : For Nature yields 
Fresh treasure in her ample fields : 
And in seraphic ecstacy 



[xv] 

Still bear us to the throne on high, 
Ocean's wild wonders next explore, 
His changing scenes, and secret store ; 
Or let dire earthquake claim thy toil, 
Earthquake, that shakes a guilty isle. 

So, if small things may shadow forth, 
Dear man, thy labors, and thy worth. 
The bee upon the flow'ry lawn 
Imbibes the lucid drops of dawn, 
Works them in his mysterious mould, 
And turns the common dew to gold. 

THOMAS GIBBONS. 

LondoTiyMay 26, 1791. 



DELIGHTFUL Author ! whom the saints inspire t 
And whisp'ring angels with their ardours fire t 
From youth like mine, wilt thou accept of praise ? 
Or smile with candor on a stripling's lays : 
My little laurel (but a shoot at most) 
Has hardly more than one small wreath to boast; 
Such as it is — (ah ! might it worthier be !) 
Its scanty foliage all is due to thee. 
Oh ! if, amongst the honors of thy brow, 
This slender circlet may but humbly grow : 
If its faint verdure haply may find~place— 
A foil to others ; — tho' its own disgrace.; 
Accept it, Hervey. from a heart sincere ; 
And for the giver's sake — the tribute wear. 

Thy soul-improving works perus'd, what tongue 
Can hold from praise, or check th' applausive song ? 
But ah ! from whence shall gratitude obtain 
Language that may its glowing zeal explain? 
How to such wond'rous -worth adapt a strain ' 
Describ'd by thee, cold sepulchres can charm ; 
Storms calm the soul ; and freezing winter warm. 
Clear'd from her gloomy shades, we view pale night 
Surrounded with a blaze of mental light. 
Lb! where she comes ! all silent! pensive! slow! 
On her dark robe unnumbered meteors glow ! 



ve son: 



High on her head a starry crown she %vears ! 
Bright in her hand the lamp of Reason bears ! 
Smiling— behold ! she points the soul to Heav'n; 
And bids the weeping sinner be forgiv'n I 

But when thy fancy shifts this solemn scene. 
And ruddy morning gilds the cheerful green ; 
With sudden joy we view the prospect chang'd, 
And blushing sweets in beauteous order rang'd. 
We see the vi'leis; smell the dewy rose, 
And each perfume that from the woodbine flows : 
A boundless perspective there greets our eyes ; 
Rich vales descend, and verdant mountains rise. 
TliQ shepherds, cottages, the rural folds : 
All that thy art describes, the eye beholds ! 

Amazing Limner I whence this matchless pow'r ? 
Thy work's a garden I— ev'ry word, a flow'r I 
The lovely tints almost the bloom excel, 
Afid none but Nature's self can paint so well 1 
Hailj holy man !—*— henceforth thy work shall stand* 
(Like some fair column by a master- hand. 
Which, whilst it props, adorns the tow'ring pile) 
At once to grace and elevate our isle. 
TIjo' simple, lofty ; tho' majestic, plain ; 
Whose bold design the rules of art restrain. 
In which the nicest eye sees nothing wrong ; 
Tho' polish'd, just; and elegant, tho' strong. 

ST. GEORGE MOLESWORTH 

June 34, 1750. 



IN pleasure's lap the muses long have kjin, 
And hung, attentive, on her Syren strain : 
Still toils the bard beneath some weak design, 
And puny thought but halts along the line : 
Or tuneful nothings, stealing on the mind, 
Melt into air, nor leave a trace behind. 
While to thy rapt'rous prose, we feel belong 
The strength of wisdom and the voice of song 
This lifts the torch of sacred truth on high, 
And points the captives to their native sky. 



[ xvii ] 

How false the joys, which earth or sense inspires. 
That clog thu soul, and damp her purer fires ! 
Truths, which thy solemn scenes, my friend, declare^ 
Whose glowing colors paint us as we are. 
Yet not moroseiy stern, nor idly gay, 
Dull melancholy reigns, ortrities sway; 
111 would the strain of levity befit, 
And suiien gloom but sadden all thy wit : 
Trutii, judgment, sense, imagination join ; 
And ev'ry muse, andev'ry grace, is thine. 
Religion prompting the ti*ue end of man, 
Conspiring genius executes the plan ; 
Strong to convince, and elegant to chaniij 
Plaintive to melt, or passionate to warm. 
Rais'd by degrees, we elevate our aim ; 
And grow immortal as we catch thy flame ; 
True piety informs our languid hearts, 
And all the vicious, and the vain, departs. 
So, when foul spreading fogs creep slowly on, 
Blot the fair morn, and hide the golden sun ; 
Ardent he pom*s the boundless blaze of day, 
Rides thro' the sky, and shines the mist away. 
O I had it been th' Almighty's gracious will, 
That I had shar'd a portion of thy skill ; 
Had this poor breast received the heav'nly beam 
Which spreads its lustre thro' thy various theme ; 
That speaks deep lessons from the silent tomb. 
And crowns thy garden with fresh- springing bloom ; 
Or, piercing thro' creation's ample whole, 
Now sooths the night, or gilds the starry pole ; 
Or marks how winter calls her howling train, 
Her snows and storms, that desolate the plain ; 
With thee the muse shall trace the pleasing road, 
That leads from Nature up to Nature's God ; 
Humble to learn, and, as she knows the more, 
Glad to obey, and happy to adore. 

PETER WHALEY. 

Korthamfiton^ 
^ug. 25, 1750. 



B g 



MEDITATIONS 
AMONG THE TOMBS. 

IN A LETTER TO A LADY. 



MADAM, 

TRAVELLING lately into Cornwall, I happened to 
alight at a considerable village in that county ; where find- 
ing myself under an unexpected necessity of staying a 
little, I took a walk to the church.* The doors, like the 
heaven to which they lead, were wide open, and readily 
admitted an unworthy stranger. Pleased with the oppor- 
tunity, I resolved to spend a few minutes under the sacred 
roof. 

In ^. situation so retired and awful, I could not avoid 
falling into a train of meditations, serious and mournfully 
pleasing : which, I trust, were in some degree profitable 
to me, while they possessed and warmed my thoughts; 
and if they may administer any satisfaction to you, Madam, 
now they are recollected, and committed to writing, I shall 
receive a fresh pleasure from them% 

It was an ancient pile : reared by hands, that ages ago, 
were mouldered into dust. Situate in the centre of a large 
burial-ground ; remote from all the noise and hurry of 

* I had named in some former editions, a particular church, viz.- 
Kilkhampton; where several of the monuments, described in the 
following pages, really exist. But as I thought it convenient to 
mention some ca^es here, which ar« not, according to the best of my 
remembrance referred to in any inscriptions there, I have now o- 
mitted the name; that imagination might operate more freely, and 
the improvement of the reader be consulted, without any thing lha£ 
should look like a vaiiatioa from truth and fact. 



20 MEDlTATiaNS 

tumultuous life. The body spacious, the structute lofty ; 
the whole magnificently plain. A row of regulai pillars 
extended themselves through the midst , supporting the 
roof with simphcity, and with dignity — The light, that 
passed through the windows, seemed to shed a kind of lu- 
minous obscurity ; which gave every object a grave and 
venerable air. — The deep silence added to the gloomy 
aspect, and both heightened by the loneliness of the place, 
greatly increased the solemnity of the scene. — A soit .of 
religious dread stole insensibly on my mind, while 1 advan- 
ced, all pensive and thoughttul, along the inmost isle ; 
such a dread, as hushed every ruder passion, and dissipa- 
ted all the gay images of an alluring world. 

Having adored that Eternal Majesty, who, far from be- 
ing confined to temples made with hands, has heaven for 
his throne, and the earth for his footstool, — I took particu- 
lar notice of a handsome altar piece; presented, as I was 
afterwards informed^ by the master builders of Stow ;* out 
of gratitude, I presume, to that gracious God, who carried 
them through their work, and enabled them to " bring 
forth their top stone with joy." 

or how amiable is gratitude! especially when it 
has the supreme Benefactor for its object. I have always 
looked upon gratitude, as the most exalted principle that 
can actuate the heait of man. It has something noble,, 
disinterested J and (if I may be allowed the term) generous- 
ly devout. RepentaBce indicates our nature fallen, and 
Sprayer turns chiefly upon a regard to one's self: but 
the exercises of gratitude subsisted in paradise, when 
there was no fault to deplore ; and will be perpetuated in 
heaven, when " God shall be all in aS." 

The language of this sweet temper is, ^^ I am unspeak- 
ably obliged ; v/hat reti:sii sha51 1 make.*'— And, surely, 
it is no improper expression of unfeigned thankfolness, to 
decorate our Creator's courts, and beautify '^ the place 
where his honor dwelleth.'* Of ^^^ the habitation of his 
feet was glorious : let it not, now, be sordid or contempti- 

^ The name of a grand seat^ belonging to the late Earl of Bath ; 
?e»¥ arkable fcvmeny for its excellent worknaanship, and elegant 
f^is^^tisre; once the i^mcspal resor? of the quality and geniiy of 
the west ; bu? nov^^ demolished^ laid even with the ground, and 
scarce one stone left upon another.— -So thai corn ma/ grow, or net- 
tles spring where ^tow lately stood. 



AMONG THE TOMBSi 21 

ble. — It must grieve an ingenuous mind, and be a re- 
proach to any people, to have their own houses wainscotted 
with cedar, and painted with vermillion ; while the tem- 
ple of the Lord of hosts is destitute of every decent orna- 
ment. 

Here I recollected, and was charmed with Solomon's 
fine address to the Almighty, at the dedication of his fa- 
mous temple. With immense charge, and exquisite 
skill, he had erected the most rich and finished structure, 
that the sun ever saw. Yet, upon a review of his work, 
and a reflection on the transcendant perfections of the 
Godhead, how it exalts the one and abases the other !— - 
The building was too gloiious for the mightiest monarch 
to inhabit ; too sacred, for unhallowed feet to enter ; yet 
infinitely too mean, for the Deity to reside in. It was, and 
the royal worshipper acknowledged it to be, a most mar- 
vellous vouchsafe ment in uncreated Excellency, to " put 
his name there." — The whole passage breathes such a 
delicacy, and is animated with such a sublimity of senti- 
ment, that I cannot persuade myself to pass on without 
repeating it " But will God indeed dwell on earth ? Be- 
hold, the heaven, and heaven of heavens, cannot contain 
thee ; how much less this house that I have builded."* 

* 1 Kings viii, 27. But will : A fine abrupt beginning, 
most significantly describing the annazement and rapture of the 
royal prophet's mind ? — God : He uses no epithet, where writers 
of inferior discerniTient would have been found to multiply 
them ; but speaks of the Deity, as an incomprehensible Being, 
whose perfections and glories are exalted above all praise. — 
Dwell; to bestow on sinful creatures a propitious look; to fa- 
vor them with a transient visit of kindness ; even this were an 
unutterable obligation. Will he then vouchsafe to fix his abode 
among them, and take up his stated residence with them ?• — In- 
deed; A word, in this connection, particularly emphatical ; ex- 
pressive of a condescension woiiderful and extraordinary al- 
most beyond all credibility. — Behold / Intimating rhe continu- 
ed, or rather the increasing surpTise of the speaker, and awaken- 
ing the attention of the hearer — Behold / the heaven ; The spa- 
cious concave of the firmament; that wide-extended azuie 
circumference, in which worlds unnumbered perform their 
revolutions, is too scanty an apartment for the Godhead. — Nay, 
. the heaKien qf heavens ; Those vastly higher tracts , which lie far 
beyond the limits of human survey ; to which our very thoughts 
can hardly soar ; even these, unbounded as they ^e, cannot af. 
ford an adequate habitation for Jehovah : even these dwindle 
into a point, when compared with the infinitude of his es- 
sence; even these <*areas nothing before him."— -ffow 77i«c/6 



22 MEDITATIONS 

Incomparable saying 1 worthy the ^visest of men. Who 
would not choose to possess such an elevated devotion, 
rather than to own all the glittering materials of that 
sumptuous edifice ? 

We are apt to be struck with admiration, at the state- 
liness and grandeur of a masterly performance in archi- 
tecture. And perhaps, on a sight of the ancient sanctua- 
ry, should have made the superficial observation of the 
disciples ; "• What manner of stones, and what buildings 
are here !" — But what a nobler turn of thought, and jus- 
ter taste of things, does it discover ; to join with Israel's 
king, in celebrating the condescension of tlie divine inhab- 
itant ! that the high and lofty One, who fills immensity 
with his glory, should in a peculiar manner, fix his abode 
there ! Should there manifest an extraordinary degree of 
his benedictive presence ; pertr.it sinful mortals to ap- 
proach his Majesty ; and promise ^' to make them joyful 
in his house of prayer I''- — This should more sensibly af- 
fect our hearts, than the most curious arrangement of 
stones can delight our eyes. 

Nay, the everlasting God does not disdain to dwell in 
our souls by his Holy Spirit ; and to make even our bo- 
dies his temple. — Tell me, ye thut frame critical judg- 
ments, and balance nicely the distu)Ction or things; "is 
this most astonishing, or most rejoicing ?" — He humbleth 
himself, the scriptures assure us, even to behold the 
things that are in heaven.* It is a most condescending 
favor, if he pleases to take the least approving notice of 
angels and archangels, when they bow down in homage 
from their celestial thrones. Will he then graciously 
regard, will he be united, most intimately united to poor, 
polluted, breathing dust ?^ — Unparalleled honor! Invalu- 
^abie privilege ! Be this my portion, and I shall not covet 
crowns, nor envy conquerors. 

But let me remember, what a sanctity of disposition, and 
uprightness of conversation, so exalted a relation de- 
mands ; remember this, " and rejoice with trembling." — 
Durst I commit any iniquity, while I tread these hallowed 

less proportionate is this poor diminutive speck, which I have 
been erecting and embellishing, to s^o august a Presence, so im. 
mensea Majesty ! 

* Psal. cxiii, 6. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 3b 

courts? Could the Jewish hi^^h-priest allow himself in any 
known transgressioii, while he made that solemn yeai'ly 
entrance* into the holv of holies, and stood before the 
immediate presence of Jehovah ? No, t'uly. In such cir- 
cumstances, a thinking person must shudder at the most 
remote solicitation, to ai y wilful offence. I should now 
be shocked at the least indecency of behaviour, and am 
apprehensive of every appearance ot evil — ^And why do 
v^'e not carry this holy jealousy i.Ho all our ordinary life ? 
Why do we not, in every place,! reverence ourselves, as 
persons dedicated to the Divinity, as living temples the 
Godhead ? For. if we are real, and not merely nominal 
Christians, the God of glory, according to his own promise, 
dv/ells in us, and walks in us4— O 1 that this one doctrine 
of our religion might operate with an abiding efficacy up- 
on our consciences 1 It w^ould be instead of a thousand 
law^s to regulate our conduct ; instead of a thousand 
motives, to quicken us in holiness. Under the influence 
of such a conviction, we should study to maintain a puri- 
ty of intention ; a dignity of action ; and to walk worthy of 
that transcendantly Majestic Being, who admits us to a 
fellowship with himself and with his Son Jesus Christ. 

The next thing vrhich engaged my attention was the 
lettered floor. The pavement, somewhat like Ezekiel's 
roll, was written over from one end to the other. I soon 
perceived the comparison to hold good in another respect, 
and the inscriptions to be matter of'' mourning. lamentation, 
and woe."§They seenied to court my observation ; silent- 
ly inviting me to read them. And what would these 
dumb monitors inform me of ? — " That, beneath their lit- 
" tie circumferences, were deposited such and such pie- 
" ces of clay, which once lived, and moved, and talked : 

* Heb. ix, r. 

t TTxvrx'v §c [jLaKis^ xisy.vvso a^xvrof, w^as the favorite 
inaxirrj cf Pythagorab, and supposed to be one of ihe best mor- 
al precepts ever given to the Heathen woild Wirh vvhat supe- 
rior force, and very singular advan age, does the argunnent take 
place in the christian scheme I where ^ve are taught to regs^rd 
ourselves, not merely as intellectual beings, who have reason 
for our monitor ; but as consecrated creatures, whr have a God 
of the most consummate perfection ever with us, ever in us, 

i 2 Cor. vi. 16. § Ezek. ii» 10. \ v. 



24 MEDITATIONS. 

" That they had received a charge to preserve their 
" names, and were the remaining trustees of theii ineai- 
"ory.'^ 

Ah, said I, is such my situation ! the adorable Creator 
around me, and tlie bones of my fellov/ creatures under 
me i Surely, then, I have great reason to cry out, with the 
revering patriarch, '' How dreadful is this place !"* Se- 
riousness and devotion become this house for ever. May 
I never enter it lightly or irreverently ; but with a profound 
awe and godly fear 1 

O ! that they were wise ?t said the inspired penman. 
It was his last wish for his dear people. He breathed it 
out, and gave up the ghost — But what is wisdom ? It 
consists not in refined speculations, accurate researches 
into nature, or an universal acquaintance with history. 
The divine lawgiver settles this important point, in his 
next aspiration : O ! that they understood this ! that they 
had right apprehensions of their spiritual interests, and 
eternal concerns ! ihat they had eyes to discern, and incli- 
nations to pursue, the things which belong to their peace ! 
— But how shall they attain this valuable knowledge i I 
send them not, adds the iilustiious teacher, to turn over 
all the volumes of literature ; they may acquire, and much 
more expeditiously, this science of life^by considering their 
latter end. This spark of heaven is often lost, under the 
glitter of pompous erudition ; but shines clearly, in the 
gloomy mansions of the tomb. Drowned is this gentle 
whisper, amidst the noise of secular affairs ; but speaks 
distinctly, in the retirements of serious contemplation — 
Behold ! how providentially i aiB brought to the school of 
wisdom t^: The grave is the most faithful master ;§ and 
these instances of mortality, the most instructive lessons — ■ 
Come then, calm attention, and compose my thoughts ; 

* Gen xxviii* IT. t I^^ut. xxxii. 29. 

J The man how wise» who sick of gaudy scenes. 
Is led by choice to take his fav'rite walk 
Beneath death*s gloomy, sclent, cyprebs shades, 
Uup'ercMby vanit**s fancasnc rav ! 
To read his monunnents^ to weigh hisdusc. 
Visit his vaults, and dwell anaong the tcr¥jba 

Nigbt'Tboughts% 
§ Wait the great teacher D eath. Pope. 



AMONG THE TOJSlBo. 23 

coHie, thou celestial Spii it, and enlighten my mind; that 
I may so peruse these awful pages, as to become " wise 
unto salvation." 

Examining the records of moitality, I found the memo- 
rials of a promiscuous multitude.* They were huddled, 
at least they rested, together, without any regard to rank 
or seniority. None were ambitious to the uppermost 
rooms, or chief '^rats in this house of mourning. None 
entertained fond and eager expectations of being honorably 
greeted in their darksome cells. The man .of years and 
experience, reputed as an oracle in his generation, was 
content to lie down at the feet ot a babe. In this house ap- 
pointed for all living, the servant was equally accommo- 
dated, and lodged in the same story, with his master. The 
poor indigent lay as softly, and slept as soundly, asthemost 
opulent possessor. All the distinction that subsisted, was 
a grassy hillock, bound with osiers ; or a sepulchral stone 
ornamented with imagery. 

Why then, said my working thoughts, O ! why should 
we raise such a mighty stir about superiority and prece- 
dence, wiien the next remove will reduce us all to a state 
of equal meanness ? why should we exalt ourselves, or de- 
base others ; since we must all, one day, be upon a com- 
mon level, and blended together in the same undistin- 
guished dust ? O ! that this consideration might humble 
my own, and others pride ; and sink our imaginations as 
low, as our habitations will shortly be ! 

Among these confused relics of humanity, there are, 
without doubt, persons of conti'ary interests, and contra- 
dicting sentiments. But death, hke some able days-man, 
has laid his hand on the contending parties ; and brought 
all their differences to an amicable conclusion.! Here ene- 
mies, sworn enemies, dwell together in unity. They 
drop every embittered thought and forget that they once 
were foes. Perhaps, their crumbling bones mix as they 
moulder; and those who, while they lived, stood aloof in 
irreconcilable varian ce, here fall into mutual embraces, 
and even incorporate with each other in the grave. — O ! 
that we m.ight learn from these friendly aslies, not to per- 

• Mista senum ac juvenum densantur funera.— -Sbr. 

t Hi motus aniraorum, atque hjec certamina tanta, 
Pulverisexigui jactu compressa quiescent- ■ Virg, 

C 



I 



26 * MEDITATIONS 

petuatc the memory of injuries; not to foment the ferer 
of resentment, nor cnerish the turbulence of passion ; that 
there may be as little animosity and disagreement in the 
land of the living, as there is in the congregation of the 
tlead ! — But I suspend for a while such general observa- 
tions, and address myself to a more particular enquiry. 

Yonder white stone, emblem of the wisdom it covers, 
informs the beholder of one, who brerJlhed out its tender 
soul, almost in the insiant of receivin,^ it. — There, the 
peaceful infant, without so much as knowing what labor 
and vexation mean, " lies still and is quiet ; it sleeps and 
is at rest.'^* Staying only to w^ash away its native impuri- 
ty in the laver of regeneration, it bid a speedy adieu to 
time, and terrestrial things. — What did the little hasty 
sojourner find so forbidding and so disgustful in our up- 
per world to occasion its precipitant exit ? It is written, 
indeed, of its suffering Saviour, that when he had tasted 
the vinegar mingled with gall, he would not drink. t And 
did ou? new-come stranger begin to sip the cup of life ; 
but, perceiving the bitterness, turn away its head and re- 
fuse the draught ? Was this the cause why the weary babe 
only opened its eyes, just looked on the light, and then 
withdrew into the more inviting regions of undisturbed re- 
pose I 

Happy voyager ! no sooner launched, than arrived at 
heaven !:|: but more eminently happy they, who have pas- 
sed the waves, and weathered all the storms, of a trouble- 
some and dangerous world ! who, '' through many tribu- 
lations, have entered into the kingdom of heaven ;" and 
thereby brought honor to their divine convoy, administer- 
ed comfort to the companions of their toil, and left an in- 
structive example to succeeding pilgrims. 

Highly favored probationer ! accepted without being 
exercised !— It was thy peculiar privilege, not to feel the 
slightest of those evils, which oppress thy surviving kin- 
dred ; which frequently fetch groans, from the most 
manly fortitude, or most elevated faith. The arrows oC 

*Job. m. 13. fMatth. xxvii* 34. 

i Happy the babe, who, privileg'd by fate 

To shorter labor and a lighter weight, 

ReceivM but yesterday the gift of breath, 

Order'd to-morrow to return to death, • " -^ - ■■ Prior's SoL 



AMONG THE TOMBS. , 27 

calamity, barbed with anguish, are often fixed deep in our 
choicest connforts. The fiery darts of temptation, shot 
from the hand of hell, are always flying in showers around 
our integrity. To thee, sweet babe, both these distresses 
and dangers were alike unknown. 

Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your 
tears. Why should you lament, that your little ones are 
crowned with victory, before the sword was drawn, or the 
conflict begun ? — Perhaps the Supreme Disposer of e- 
vents foresaw some inevitable snare of temptation form- 
ing, or some dreadful storm of adversity impending. And 
why should you be so dissatisfied with that kind precau- 
tion, which housed your pleasant plant, and removed into 
shelter a tender flower, before the thunders roared ; be- 
fore the lightnings flew ; before the tempest poured its 
rage ? — O remember ! they are not lost, but taken away 
from the evil to come.* 

At the same time, let survivors, doomed to bear the 
heat and burden of the day, for their encouragement re- 
flect — That it is more honorable to have entered the 
lists, and to have fought the good fight, before they come 
off* conquerors. They who have borne the cross, and 
submitted to atflictive providences, with -4 cheerful resig- 
nation, have girded up the loins of theif' mind, and per- 
formed their master's will with an honest and persevering 
fideUty : — These having glorified their Redeemer on earth, 
will probably be as stars of the first magnitude in heaven» 
They will shine with brighter beams, be replenished 
with stronger joys, in their Lord's everlasting kingdom. 

Here lies the grief of a fond mother, and the blasted ex- 
perience of an indulgent father. — The youth grew up, 
like a well-watered ^lant : he shot deep, rose high, and 
bade fair for manhood. But just as the cedar began to 
tower, and promised, ere long, to be the pride of the wood, 
and prince amongthe neighboring trees — behold! the axe 
is laid unto the root; the fatal blow struck; and all its 
branching honors tumbled to the dust.— And did he fall 
alone ? No : the hopes of his father that begat him, and 
the pleasing prospects of her that bare him, fell, and were 
crushed together with him. 

Doubtless it would have pierced one's heart, to have . 

# Isa. Ivli. 1. 



X^8 MEDITATIONS 

beheld the tender parents following the breathless youth 
to his long home. Perhaps drowned in tears, and all o- 
verwhelmed with sorrows they stood, like weeping statues, 
on this Tery spot. — Methinks, I see the deeply distressed 
mourners attending the sad solemnity. How they wring 
their hands, and pour floods from, their eyes ! — Is it fan- 
cy ? or do i really hear the passionate mother, in an ago- 
ny of affliction, taking her final leave of the darling of her 
soul? Dumb she remained, while the awful obsequies 
were performing ; dumb with grief, and leaning upon the 
partner of her w^oes. But now the inward anguish strug- 
gles for vent ; it grows too big to be repressed. She ad- 
vances to the brink of the grave. All her soul is in her 
eyes. She fastens one more look upon the dear doleful 
object, before the pit shuts its mouth upon him. And as 
she looks, she cries ; — -in broken accents, inteiTupted by 
many a rising sob, she cries, *' Farewell my son I my 
^^ son ! my only beloved 1 would to God I had died for 
^' thee ! Farewell my child ! and farewell all earthly hap- 
*' piness !— I shall never more see ^ood in the land of the 
*^ living.^ — Attempt not to comfort me.-— I will go mourn- 
*^ ing, all my days, till my grey hairs come down, with 
*' sorrow to the grave.'* 

From this affecting representation, let parents be con- 
vinced, how highly it concerns them to cultivate the mor- 
als, and secure the immortal interests of their children. — 
If you really love the offspring of your bodies ; if your 
bowels yearn ov^r those amiable pledges of conjugal en- 
dearment; spare no pains ; give all diligence, I entreat 
you, '^ to brine them up in the nurture and admonition of 
the Lord." Tlv^n you may have joy in their life, or con° 
solation in their death. If their span is prolonged ; their 
unblameable and useful conduct will be the staff of your 
age, and a balm for declining nature. Or, if the number 
of their years be cut off in the midst, you may commit their 
remains to the dust, with much the same comfortable ex- 
pectations, and with infinitely more exalted views, than 
ycu send the survivors to places of genteel education. 
You may commit them to the dust, with cheering hopes 
of receiving them again to your arms, inexpressibly im= 
proved in every noble and endearing accomplishment. 

xt is certainly a severe trial ; and much more afflictive, 
than I am able to imagine ; to resign a lovely blooming 



- AMOXG THE TOMBS. 29 

creature, sprung from your own loins, to the gloomy re- 
cesses of corruption. Thus to resign iiim, after having 
been long dandied upon your knees ; united to your affec- 
tions by a thousana ties of tenderness; ana now become 
botn the delight of your eyes, and the- support of your fam- 
ily ! To have such a one torn from your bosom, and thrown 
into darkness ; doubtless it must be like a dagger in your 
hear IS. — But O ! how much more cutting to you, and 
confounding to the child, to have the soul separated frorai 
God ; and, for shameful ignorance, or early impiety, 
transmitted to places of eternal torment ! How would it 
aggravate your distress, and add a distracting emphasis 
to all your sighs, if you follow the corpse with these bitter 
reflections l^ — ^- This dear creature, though long ago ca- 
'' pable of knowing good from evil, is gone out of the 
'' world, before it learned the great design of coming into- 
''it. A short lived momentary existence it received from " 
'' me ; but no good instructions, no holy admonitions, noth- 
" ingto further its well-being in that everlasting state, up- 
" on which it is now entered. The poor body is consigu- 
" ed to the coffin, and carried out, to consume away iu the 
" cold and silent grave. And what reason have I to sup- 
'' pose, that the precious soul is in a better condition ? 
" May I not justly fear, that, sentenced by the righteous 
" Judge, it is going or gone away, into the pains of endless 
^' punishment ? — Perhaps, while I am bewailing its un- 
" timely departure, it may be cursing in outer darkness, 
^' that ever to be deplored, that most calamitous day, when 
*^ it was born of such a careless, une-odly parent, as I have 
^'been." 

Nothing, I think, but the gnawings of that worm which 
never dies, can equal the anguish of these self-condemning 
thoughts. The tortures of a rack must43e an easy suffer- 
ing, compared with the stings and horror of such a re- 
morse. — How earnestly do I wish, that as many as are en- 
trusted with the management of children, would take time- 
ly care to prevent these intolerable scourges of con- 
science; by endeavoring to conduct their minds into an 
early knowledge of Christ, and a cordial love of his truth ? 

On this hand is lodged one, whose sepulchral stone 
lells a most pitiable tale indeed ! Well may the little ima- 
ges reclined over the sleeping ashes, hang down their 
Tieads with that pensive air I None can consider 50 niourn-' 
G 2 



uO MEDITATIONS. 

ful a story, without feeling some touches cf sympathising 
concern. His age twenty-eight ; his death sudden : him- 
self cut down in the prime ol life, amidst all the vivacity 
and vigor of manhood 5 while " his breasts were full of 
milk, and kis bones moistened with marrow."— Probably; 
he entertained no apprehensions of the evil hour. And 
indeed, who could have suspected, that so bright a sun 
should go down at noon ? To human appearance, his 
hill stood strong. Length of days seemed written in his 
sanguine countenance. He solaced himself with the pros- 
pect of a long, long series of earthly satisfactions. When, 
lo ! an unexpected stroke descends ! descends from that 
mighty arm, which " overturneth the mountains by their 
roots ; and crushes the imaginary hero, before the moth ;''* 
as quickly, and more easily than our fingers press such a 
feeble fluttering insect to death. 

Perhaps the nuptial joys were all he thought on.— Were 
not such the breathings of his enamoured soul ? " Yet a 
" very little while, and I shall possess the utmost of my 
^' wishes. I shall call my charmer mine ; and, in her, 
*' enjoy whatever my heart can crave,'"' In the midst 
of such enchanting views, had some faithful friend but 
softly reminded him of an opening grave, and the end of 
all things ; how unseasonable would he have reckoned 
the admonition ! Yet, though all warm with life, and rich 
in visionary bliss, he was even then tottering upon the 
brink of both. — Dreadful vicissitude! to have the bridal 
festivity turned into the funeral solemnity If Deplorable 

* Job. iv. 19* Ad instar admodum tinese. 1 retain this in- 
terpretation both as it is most suitable to n»y ])Urpose, and as it is 
patronised by someeniinent commentators, especially the celebrated 
Schultens. ThiiUgh I cannot but give the preference ro the opin- 
3on of a judicious friend, who would render the passage more liter- 
ally before the face of a moth ; making it ^o represent a creature so 
exceedingly frail, that even a moth, flymg against n, may dash it 
to pieces,-— Which, besides its closer coriespondence with the exact 
import of tlie Hebrew, presents us with a much finer image of the 
most extrewie imbecility For it certainly implies a far greater de- 
gree of weakness, to be crushed by the feebk flutter of ihe feeblest 
creature, than only to be cri»hed sa easily as rhat creature, by the 
hand ot man,— The French version Is \^y expressive and beautiful | 
a la reconire d'un vermisseau. 

t A distress of this kind is painted in veiy ..tfecung colors by Pli- 
ny, in an epistle to M^rcdUnus \ O triste plane acerbumque funus ^ 



AUullQ THE TOMBS. 3l * 

misfortune t to be shipwrecked in the very haven ! and 
to perish even in sight ot happiness ! — What a memora- 
ble proof is here of the fraihy of manj in his be^t estate i 
Look, O look on this monument, ye gay, and careless ! 
Attend to this date ; and boast no more of to-morrcv/. 

Who can tell, but the bride-maids, girded ^vitb ^hiui;css. 
had prepared the marriage bed t had decked it vaih the 
richest covers, and dressed it in pillo\\s of do%vn r \Vi]Cu 
' — O ! trust not in youth, or strength, or in aay iLing mor- 
tal : for there is nothing certain, nothing to be cicj ended 
upon beneath the unchangeable Gcd : — Death, relentless 
death, is making him another kind of bed in the dust of 
the earth. Unto this he mu.-l be conveyed, not with a 
splendid procession of joyous attendants ; but stretched in 
the gloomy hearse, and followed by a train of mourners. 
On this he must take up a lonely lodging— -nor ever be 
released, ''till the heavens are no more." — In vain does 
the consenting fair one put on her ornaments, and expect 
he spouse. Did she not, like Sisera's mother, look out of 
the lattice ; chide the delays of her beloved ; and wonder 
" why his chariot was so long in coming ?" — little think- 
ing, that the intended bridegroom had forever done with 
transient things ? that now everlasting cares employ his 
mind, without one single remicmbrance of his lovely Lu- 
cinda ! — Go, disappointed virgin ! go mourn the uncer-> 
tainty of all created bliss I Teach thy soul to aspire after a 
sure and im.mutable felicity ! For^the once gay and gallant 
Fidelio sleeps in other embraces ; even in the icy aiTns of 
death ! Forgetful, eternally forgetful of the world — and 
thee. 

Hitherto, one is tempted to exclaim against the king of 
terrors and call him capriciously cruel. He seems, by 
beginning at the wrong end of the register, to have in veil- 
ed the laws of nature. Passing over the ccuch of de- 
crepit age, he has nipped infancy in its bud ; blasted youth 
in its bloom ; and torn up manhood in its full maturity. — . 



u 



O morte ipsa mortis tempus n.dignius! Jam destinata erat egregio 
juveni : jam electus PiUptiarun) dies,- jam nos advocati. Quod 
gaudiuTD quo mceroje muraium e^t ! Non possum exprimere verbis, 
qusrjiUin animo viiinUi acceperim, quum audivi Fundanum ipsum 
;{ut ixmlta lucuiosa dolor inveiiir) pisecipientem, qiicd in vestes, mar- 
^aritai. geiiiniaa. fuerat erogaturuS; hcc in thuya, et unguenta, et 
odores, impeiideretur. Piin, lib.V,.epist, 2^» 



32 MEDITATIONS. 

Terrible indeed are these providences, yet not unsearclia- 
ble the counsels : 

For us they sicken, and for us they die.* 

Such strokes must not only grieve the relatives, but 
surprise the whole neighborhood — Thty sound a power- 
ful alarm to heedless dreaming mortals, and are intended 
as a remedy for our carnal security. Such passing-bells 
inculcate loudly our Lord's admonition : " Take ye heed, 
watch and pray ; for ye know not v/hen the time is." — 
We nodj like intoxicated creatures, upon the veiy verge 
of a tremendous precipice. These astonishing dispensa- 
tions are the kind messengers of Heaven ; to rouse us 
from our supineness, and quicken us into timely circum- 
spection. I need not, surely, accommodate them with 
language, nar act as their interpreter. Let every one's 
conscience be awake, and this will appear their awful 
fneaning : — ^' O ! ye sons of men, in the midst of life you 
'* are in death. No state, no ciicumstances, can ascertain 
^' your preservation a single moment. So strong is the 
" tyrant's arm, that nothing can resist its force ; so true 
" his aim, that nothing can elude the blow. Sudden as 
'' lightning, sometimes, is his arrow launched ; and 
*' wounds and kills in the twinkling of an eye. Never 
'' promise yourselves safety in any expedient, but con- 
*" stant preparation. TJie fatal shafts fly so promiscuous- 
'^ ly, that none can guess the next victim. Therefore, be 
" ye always ready : for in such an hour as ye think not, 
" the final summons cometh." 

" Be ye always rea% : for in such an hour as ye think 
" not — " Important admonition ! Methinks, it reverbe- 
rates from sepulchre to sepulchre ; and addresses me 
with line upon line, precept upon precept. The reitera- 
ted warning, I acknowledge, is too needful ; may co-ope- 
rating grace render it effectual I The momentous truth, 
though worthy to be engraved on the tables of a most te- 
nacious memory, is but slightly sketched on the transient 
fiow of passion. We see our neighbors fail ; we turn 
pale at the shock ; and feel, perhaps, a trembling dread. 
No sooner are they removed from our sight, but, driven 
into the whirl of business, or lulled into the languors of 
« Night-Thoughts- 



^ AMONG THE TOMBS. oS 

pleasure, we forget the providence, and neglect its errand. 
The impression made on our unstable minds, is like the 
trace of an arrow, through the penetrated air ; or the path 
of a keel, in the furrowed wave.^ — Strange stupidity I to 
cure it, another monitor bespeaks me, from a neighboring 
stone. It contains the narrative of an unhappy mortal 
snatched from his friends, and hurried lb the awful bar ; 
without leisure, either' to take a last farewell of the one, or 
to put up so much as a single prayer preparatory for the 
other * killed, according to the usual expression, by a sud- 
den stroke of casualty. 

Was it then a random s-roke ? Doubtless, the blow 
came from an aiuiing: thoui^^h invisible hand. God presi- 
deth over the araiies of heaven ; God ruleth among the 
inhabitants of the eaith ; and God conducteth what men 
call chance. Nothing, nothing comes to pass through a 
blind and undiscerning fatality. If accidents happen, they 
happen according to the exact fore-knowledge, and con- 
formably to the determinate counsels of Eternal Wisdom. 
The Lord, with whom are the issues of death, signs the 
warrant, and gives the high commission. The seemingly 
fortuitous disaster is only the agent or the instrument, ap- 
pointed to execute the supreme decree. When the king 
of Israel was mortally wounded, it seemed to be a casual 
shot. '^ A certain man drew a bow at a venture."* — At a 
venture, as he thought. But his hand was strengthened 
by an omnipotent aid, and the shaft levelled by an unerring 
eye. So that what we term casu2lty5 is really providence 
— -/iccomplishing deliberate designs, but concealing its 
own interposition. — How comforting this reflection ! ad- 
mirably adapted to sccth the throbbing anguish of the 
mourners, and compose their spirits into a quiet submis- 
sion ! Excellently suited, to dissipate the fears of godly 
suf ^ ivors, and crea.te a calm intrepidity even amidst innu- 
merable perils I 

Hov#thin is the partition between this world and anoth- 
er! How short the trasition from time to eternity ! The 
partition, nothing more than the breath in our nostrils ; and 
the transition may be made in the twinkling of an eye. — - 
Poor Chremylus, I remember, arose from the diversion 
of a card-table, and dropt into the dw^ellings of darkness.— 
One night, Corinna ^vas all gaiety in her spirits, all fmery 

• 1 Kings XX ii. 54. 



5i MEDITATIONS 

in her apparel, at a magnificent ball. The next night, 
she lay pale and stiff an extended corpse, and ready to be 
mingled with the mouldering dead. — Young Attic us lived 
to see his ample and commodious seat completed ; but 
not to spend one joyous hour under the stately roof. The 
sashes were hung to admit the day ; but the master's eyes 
were closed in endless night. The apartments w^ere iur- 
nished to invite society, or administer repose ; ^but their 
lord rests in the lower parts of. the earth, in tne solitary, 
silent chambers of the tomb. The gardens w^cre planned, 
and a thousand elegant decoratioris designed : but, alas ! 
their intended possessor is gone down to " the place of 
skulls :" is gone down to the valley of the shadow Df 
death. 

While I am recollecting, many, I question not, are ex- 
periencing the same tragical vicissitude. The eyes of 
that sublime Being — who sits upon the circle of the earth, 
and views a.11 its inhabitants with one comprehensive 
glance — ^even now, beholds many tents in aitiiction. Such 
affliction, as overwhelmed the Egyptians in that fatal night, 
when the destroying angel sheathed his arrows in all the 
pride of their strength.— Some, sinking to the fioor from 
their easy chah' ; and deaf even amidst the piercing shrieks 
of their distracted relations.— Some giving up the ghost 
as they sit retired, or reclLned, under the shady arbor, to 
taste the sweets of the fiovv^ery scene. Some, as they sail, 
associated with a party of pleasure, alcnp: the dancing 
stream, and through the laughing meads. Kor is the grim 
intruder mollified, though wine and music flow around.--- 
Some intercepted, as they are returning home ; and some 
interrupted, as they enter upon an important negociation. 
— -Some arrested, Vvdththe gain of injustice in their hands; 
and some surprised, in the very act of lewdness or the at-- 
tempt of cruelty. 

Legions, legions of disasters such as no prudence, can 
foresee, and no care prevent, lie in wait to accomplish our 
doom. A starting horse may throw his rider ; may at 
once dash his body against the stones, and fling his soul in- 
to the invisible v/orld. A stack of chimneys may tumble 
into the street, and crush the unwary passenger under the 
ruins. Even a single tile, dropping from the roof, may be 
as f^'tal as the fall of the whole structure.— So frail, so ve- 
ry attenuated is the thread of life, that it not only bursts be= 



AMONG THE TOMBS. o3 

fore the storm, but breaks even at a breeze. The mpst 
common occurrences, those from which we suspect not 
the least harm, may prove the weapons of our destruction. 
A grape-stone, a despicable fly, may be more mortal than 
Goiiah, with all his formidable armor.---Nay, if God give 
command, our very comfoi ts become killing. The air we 
breathe, is our bane ; and the food we eat, the vehicle of 
death.— That last enemy hcis unnumbered avenues for his 
approach : yea, lies entrenched in our very bosoms, and 
holds his fortress in the seat of our life. The crimson flu- 
id, which distributes health, is impregnated with the seeds 
of death. Heat may inflame it, or toils oppress it, and 
make it destroy the parts it was designed to cherish. 
Some unseen impediment may obstruct its passage, or 
some unknown violence may divert its course ; in either 
of whicli cases, it acts the part of a poisonous draught, or 
a deadly stab. 

Ah ! in what perils is vain life engag'J ! 

What slight neglects, what trivial faults destroy 

The hardest frame t Of indolence, of toil 

We die; of want, of superfluity. 

The all-surrounding heav'n, the vital air, 

Is big with death. 

Since then we are so liable to be dispossessed of this 
earthly tabernacle, let us look upon ourselves only as ten- 
ants at will : and hold ourselves in perpetual readiness, to 
depart at a moment's warning. Without such an habitu- 
al readiness, .we^re like wretches that sleep on the top of 
a mast, while a horrid gulf yawns, or furious waves rage, 
below\ And where can be the peace, what the satisfaction, 
of such a state ?- —Whereas^ a prepared condition will in- 
spire a cheerfulness of temper, not to be dismayed by any 
alarming accident ; and create a firmness of mind, not to 
be overthrown by the most threatening dangers. When 
the city is fortified with walls, furnished with provision, 
guarded by able and resolute troops ; what have the inhab- 
itants to fear? what may they not enjoy ? So, just so^ or 
rather, by a much surer band, are connected the real tasfe 
of life, and the constant thought of death. 

I said, our very comforts may become killing And 
see the truth inscribed by the hand^ sealed with the signet 



S6 MEDITATIONS 

of fate. The marble, which graces yonder pillar, informs 
me, that near it, are doposited the remains of Sophronia ; 
the much lamented Sophronia, who died in child-bed. — 
How often does this calamity happen ! The branch shoots; 
but the stem withers. The babe springs to light, but she 
that bare him, breathes her last. She gives life ! but gives 
it (O pitiable consideration !) at the expence of her own ; 
and becomes, at once, a mother and a corpse. — Or else, 
perhaps, she expires in severe pangs, and is herself a tomb 
for her infant ; v/hile the melancholy complaint of a mon- 
arch's woe, is the epitaph for them both : " The children 
are come to the birth, and there is not sfrength to bring- 
forth .'** — Less to be lamented, in my opinion, this misfor- 
tune than the other. Better for the tender stranger to be 
stopped in the porch, than to enter only to converse with 
affliction. Better to find a grave in the womb, than to be 
exposed on a hazardous world, without the guardian of its 
infantile years, without the faithful guide of its youth. 

This monument is distinguished by its finer materials? 
and more delicate appendages. It seems to have taken its 
model from an affluent hand ; directed by a generous heait 
"-which thought it could never do enough for the deceased. 
— It seems, also, to exhibit an emblematical picture of So- 
phronia's person and accomplishments. Is her beauty, or 
what is more than beauty, her white-robed innocence, rep- 
resented by the snowy color ? The surface, smoothly pol- 
ished, like her amiable temper, and engaging manners. 
The whole elegantly adorned, in a well-judged medii^m, 
between extravagant pomp, and sordid negligence ; like 
her undissembled goodness, remote from the least osten- 
tation, yet in all points exemplary. — But ah ! how vain 
were all these endearing charms ! how vain the lustre of 
thy sprightly eye! how vain, the bloom of thy bridal 
youth ! how vain the honors of thy superior biith ! how 
unable to secure the lovely possessor from the savage vi- 
olence of death ! — How ineffectual, the universal esteem 
of thy acquaintance ! the fondness of thy transported hus- 
band ; or even the spotless integrity of thy character ; to 
prolong thy span, or procure thee a short reprieve I — The 
occurrence of all these circumstances, reminds me of those 
beautiful and tender lines : 

* Isa. XXX vii. 3. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 37 

How lov'd, how valu'd once, avails thee not ; 
To whom related, or by whom begot. 
A heap of dust alone remains of thee ; 
'Tis all thou art !— and all the proud shall be.* 

Pope's Mis eel. 

* These verses are inscribed on a small, but elegant monunaent, 
lately erected in the great church at Northannpton ; which in the hi- 
eroglvphical decorations, corresponds vvih the descriptions introdti* 
ced above : In this circumstance particularly, that re is dedicated to 
the mennory of an ajTiiable womanv Mrs. Anne Stonehouse, the ex- 
cellent wife of myvvorihy friend Dr. Stonehouse; who has seen all 
the powers of that healing art, to which I, and so many others, have 
been greatly indebted, failing in their attempts to preserve^U life 
dearer to him than his own- 

Nee prosunt domino, qua prosunt omnibus artcs. 

No longer his all-healing art prevails ; 
But ev'ry remedy its master fails. 

In the midst of this tender distress, he had sought some kind of 
consolation, even from the sepulchral marble; by teaching it to 
speak, at once, his esteem for her memory : and his veneration for 
that religion, which she so eminently adored. Nor could liliis be 
more significantly done, than by summing up her character, in that 
concise, but comprehensive sentence, A sincere Christian. Con- 
cise enough to be the motto for a mourning ring ; yet as comprehen- 
sive,as the most enlarged sphere of personal, social, and religious worth 
For. whatsoever things are pure ; whatsoever things are lovely ; 
whatsoever things are of good report ; are they not all included in 
that grand and noble aggregate, A sincere Christian ? 

The first lines, considered in such a connection, are wonderfully 
plaintive and pathetic ; 

How lov'd,how valu'd once, avails thee not; 
To whom related, or by whom begot. 

They sound, at least in my ears, like the voice of sorrow, mingled 
w ith admiration. The speaker seems to have been lost, for a whVle, 
in mekncholy contemplation ; suddenly breaks out into this abrupt 
encomium ; then melts into tears, and can proceed no farther. Yet, 
in this case, how eloquent is silence ! While it hints the univeirsa 1 
esteem which attended, and the superiority of birth which distin- 
guished the deceased wife 5 it expresses, beyond all the pomp of 
words, the yearning affection, and heart*felt aifliciion, of the survi- 
ving husband. — ^ Amidst the group of naonumental marbles, which 
are lavish of their panegyric j this,! think* resembles the incompar- 
able address of the painter^ who, having placed, round a beautiful 

D 



38 MEDITATIONS. 

Yet though unable to divert the stroke, Christianity is 
sovereign to pluck out the sting of death. Is liot this the si- 
lent language of those lamps which burn, 3nd of that heart 
"which flames ; of those palms which flciinsh, and of that 
crown which glitters, in the well-imitated and gilded mar- 
ble ? Do they not, to the discerning eye, describe the vi- 
gilance of her faith ; the fervency of her devotion ; her vic- 

expiring virgin, her friends in ail the agonies of grief, represented 
the unequalled anguish of the father, with far grea.er livehness and 
strength, or rather with inexpressible emphasis, bv drawing a veil o- 
ver his face. 

If the last lines are a wide depatture from fiie beaten track of 
our modern epitaphs, and the very reverse of their high-flown com. 
pliments, 

A heap of dust alone renaains of thee ! 

*Tis ail thou art ! — and all the proud shall be ! 

they are not without a precedent, and one of the most consummate 
kind. Since they breathe the very spirit of that sacied elegy, in 
which all the heart of the hero and the friend seems to be dissolved ; 
*' How are the rrighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!** 
2 SaiTi i' SZ-.—Thev remind the reader of that awtul lesson, which 
-was originally dictated by thebupreme Wisdom ; '' Dust thou ait, 
and unto dust taou shalt return. Gen, iii. 19. — They inculcate, 
with all the force of the most convincing evidence, that solemn ad- 
irvoninon delivered by the prophe- ; • Cease ye from man, whose 
breath is inlhis nostrils: for wherein is he to be accounted of ;" Isa. 
ii. 22. -r -^ 

rhat no reader, hbwever inattentive, might mistake the sense and 
design of this part of the fourth line, 

»Tis all thou art ! 

at is guarded above and beneath — Above, is an expanded book, that 
seems to be waved, with an air of triurrph, over the err.blem of 
de-rtth : wliich w-e cannot but suppose to be the volume of inspira- 
tion, as it exhibits a sort of abr dgmenr of its whole contents, in 
those animated words; *' Be ye not slothful, bm followers of them, 
who through faith and patience inheiit the promise." Heb vi. 12 — 
Beneath f rhat every part might be pregnant with instruction, are 
those striking reflections; worthy the conrideranon of the highest 
proficient in knowledge and piety, yet obvious to the understanding 
ofthemos^ untaught reader; *' Life, how shor.! Eternity, how 
long'."— May my soul learn the forcible purport of this shorties- 
son, in her contracted span of nme ! and all eternity will not be too 
long to rejoice in having learned it. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 39 

tory over the world ; and the celestial diadem, which the 
Lord, the righteous Jiidg-e, shall give her at that day ?* 

How happy the husband, ia such a sharer of his bed, and 
partner of his foitunes ! Their inclinations were nicely- 
turned unisons, and all their conversation was harmony. 
How silken the yoke to such a pair, and what blessings 
were twisted with such bands I Every joy was heightened, 
and every care alleviated. JN'othing seemed wanting. to 
consummate their bliss, but a hopeful progeny rising a- 
round them — that they might see themselves multiplied 
' in their little ones ; see their mingled graces transfused 
into their offspring ; and feel the glow of their affectioa 
augmented, by being i-eiiected from their children. — ''Grant 
us this gift."" said their united prayers, '' and our satisfac- 
tions are crowned : we request no more.'* 

Alas ! how blind are mort^ls.taf^iniie events ! How un- 
able to discern what is really good !t ^' Give me children,'* 
said Rachel, ** or else 1 die.*'| An ardor of impatience, 
altogether vmbecoming, and as mistaken as it v/as unbe- 
conjing. She dies, not by the disappointment, but by the 
accomplisluiient, of her desire. — If children are, to par- 
ents, like a flowery chaplet, whose beauties blossom with 
oiTiament,and whose odours breath delight ; death, or some 
fell misf rtune, may find means to entwme themselves with 
the lovely wreath- Whenever our souls are poured out, 
Avith passionate importunity, after any inferior acquisition ; 
it may be truly said, in the words of our divine Master, 
" Ye know not what ye ask." — Does Providence withhold 
the thing that we long for ? it denies in mercy ; and only 
withholds the occasion of our misery, perhaps the instru- 
ment of our ruin. With a sickly appetite, we often loathe 
what is wholesome, and hanker after our bane. Where 
imagination dreams of unmingled sweets, there experi- 
ence frequently finds the bitterness of woe. 

Therefore, may we covet immoderately, neither this nor 

* 2. Tim. iv. 8, ^ 

t Nescia TT>ens hominum fati, sortisque futurce ! 
Turno lempns erir, iTiagno cum optaverit emptum, 
lTi:actum Pallanta ; et cum spolia istadienique 
Oderit . 

I Gen. XXX. 1, 



40 MEDITATIONS 

that form of earthly felicity ; but refer the whole of our 
condition, to the choice of unerring Wisdom. May we 
learn to renounce our own will ; and be ready to make a 
sacrifice of our warmest wishes, whenever they run coun- 
ter to the good pleasure of God. For, indeed, as to obey 
his laws, is to be perfectly free ; so, to resign ourselves to 
his disposal, is to establish our own happiness, and to be 
secure from fear of evii. 

Here a small and plain stone is placed upon the ground ; 
purchased, one would imagine, from the little fund, and 
formed by the hand of frugality itself Nothing costly : 
not one decoration added : only a very short inscription ; 
and that so effaced, as to be scarcely intelligible. — Was 
the depository unfaithful to its trust i or were the letters 
worn, by the frequent resort of the surviving family ; to 
mourn over the grave, and revive the remembrance of 
a most valuable and beloved relative ? — For I perceive, 
upon a closer iiiSpection, that it covers the remains of a fa- 
ther ; a religious father : snatched from . his growing off- 
spring, before they v/ere seltled in the world, or so much 
as their principles fixed by a thorough education. 

This, sure, is the most complicated distress, that has 
hitherto come under our consideration. The solemnities 
of such a dying chamber are some of the most melting 
and melancholy scenes imaginable. — There lies the affec- 
tionate husband ; the indulgent parent ; the faithful fi'iend ; 
and the generous master. He lies in the last extremities, 
and on the very point of dissolution. Art h,as done its all. 
The raging disease mocks the power of medicine. It has- 
tens, with resistless impetuosity, to execute its dreadful 
errand ; to rend asunder the silver cord of life, and the 
more delicate tie of social attachment, and conjugal affec- 
tion. 

A servant or tv/o, from a fevering distance, cast many 
a wishful look, and condole their honored master in tho 
language of sighs. The condescending mildness of his 
commands, was wont to produce an alacrity of obedience, 
and render their service a pleasure. Now the remem- 
brance of both imbitters their grief, and makes it trickle 
plentifully down their honest cheeks. — His friends, who 
have so often shared his joys, and gladdened his mind with 
^heir enlivening converse, now are miserable comforters, 
\ sympathising and mournful pity is all the relief they are 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 41 

able to contribute ; unless it be augmented by their silent 
prayers ior tht divine auccor, and a word of coi.solatioa 
sui^'gested from the scriptuies.* — "Those poor innocents, 
the cniidren, croud around the bed; drowned in tears, and 
almost frantic with grief, they sob out their little souls, and 
passionately cry ; '' Will he leave us / leave us in a help- 
less condition I leave us to an injurious world !" 

These separate streams are all united in the distressed 
spouse, and overwhelm her breast with an impetuous tide 
of sorrows. In her the lover weeps ; the wife mourns ; 
and all the mother yearns. To her, the loss is beyond 
measure aggravated, by months and years of delightful 
society, and exalted fiiendship. Where, alas ! can she 
meet with such unsuspected fidelity, or repose such unre- 
served confidence ? Where find so discreet a counsellor ; 
so improving an example ; and a guardian so sedulously 
attentive to the interests of herself, and her children ? — - 
See ! how she hangs over the languishing bed ; most ten- 
derly solicitous to prolong a life, important and desirable 
far beyond her own, or, if that be impracticable, no less 
tenderly officious to soothe the last agonie* of her dearer 
self. — Her hands, trembling under the direful apprehen-^ 
sionS) w^ipe the cold dews from the livid cheeks ; and some- 
times stay the sinking head on her gentle arms, sometimes 
rest it on her compassionate bosom— See 1 how she gazes, 
with a speechless ardor, on the pale countenance, and 
meagre features. — Speechless her tongue, but she looks 
unutterable things. While all her soft passions throb 
with unavailing fondness, and her very soul bleeds with 
exquisite anguish. 

The sufferer, all patient and adoring, submits to the di- 
vine will; and, by submission, becomes superior to his af« 
fiiction. He is sensibly touched with th^Kdisconsolate 
state of his attendants ; and merced with an an^oBs con- 
cern, for his wife and his children. His wife, wTK) will 
soon be a destitute widow ; his children, who ^ill soon be 

* Texts of scripture, proper for such an occasion ; containing 
pr onuses— of support under affliction, Lan). iii- 32. — Heb. xii 6.-^ 

2 Cor. iv. 17 of pardon Isa. i 18.— Isa. liii, 5 -^Acts x. 43.— 

1 John ii. 1, 2 of justification. Ronn. v 9.— Rom. viii. 33. 34, 

— 2 Cor. V.21 -of victory over death, Psalm xxlii. 4t«-Psalm 

Ixviii. 26.— 1. Cor xv. 56,^7.-= — of a happ^ rcswrrectioD, John vi, 
40.— 2 Cor. V. 1— Rev. vii. 16, 17, 

D 2 



42 MEDITATIONS. 

helpless orphans. ^* Yet, though cast down, not in des* 
pai^^'* He is greatly refreshed, by his trust in the evei- 
lasting covenant, and his hope of approaching glory. Re- 
ligion gives a dignity to distress. At each interval of ease, 
he comforts his very comforters ; and suffers with all the 
majesty of woe. 

The soul, just going to abandon the tottering clay, col- 
lects all her force, and exerts her last efforts. The good 
man raises himself on his pillow ; extends a kind hand to 
his servants, which is bathed m tears ; takes an affecting 
farewell of his friends ; clasps his wife in a- feeble embrace 
' — kisses the dear pledges of their mutual love ; and then 
pours all that remains of life and strength, in the follovr'- 
ing words ; — " I die, my dear children : but God, the ev- 
" eriasting God, w^ill be with you. — Though you lose an 
earthly parent : you have a Father in heaven, who lives 
for evermore. — Nothing, nothing but an unbelieving heart, 
and irreligious life, can ever separate you from the re- 
'^ gards of his providence — ^from the endearments of his 
'- love." 

He could proceed no farther. His heart was full ; but 
utterance failed. After a short pause, prompted by affec- 
tionate zeal, with difficulty, great difficulty, he added ; — 
'' You, the dear partner of my soul, you are now the only 
'' protector of our orphans. — I leave you under a wxight 
"^ of caresc — But G^d, who defendeth the cause of the wid- 
^« ow, — God, whose promises are faithfulness and truths — 
*^ God hath said, ' I will never leave thee, nor forsake 
^ thee.'* — This revives my drooping spirits, — let this sup- 
"* port the wife of my bosom. — And now, O Father of com- 
^' passions, into thy hands I commend my spirit. — En- 
'* couraged by thy promised goodness, I leave my father- 
^^ less " 

Here he fainted ; fell back upon the bed ; and lay, for 
some minutes, bereft of his senses. As a taper, upon the 
very point of extinction, is sometimes suddenly rekindled, 
and leaps into a quivering flame ; so life, before it totally 
expired, gave a parting struggle, and once more looked a- 
bix)ad from the opening eye-lids. — He would fain have 
spoke ; fain have uttered the sentence he began. More 
than once he essayed; but the organs of speech were be- 
come like a broken vessel, and nothing but the obstructing 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 43 

phlegm rattled in his throat. His aspect, however, spoke 
affection inexpressible. With all the lather, all the iius- 
band still living in his looks, he takes one more view of 
those dear children, whom he had often beheld, with a pa- 
rental tiiumph. He turns his eyes on that bexoved \^o- 
man, whom he never beheld but with a glow of delight. 
Fixed in this posture, amidst smiles of love, and under a 
gleam of heaven, they shine out their last. 

Upon this, the silent sorrow bursts into loud laments. 
They weep, and retuse to be comfoiled. Till some length 
of time had given vent to the excess of passion ; and the 
consolations oi religion had staunched their bleeding svoes. 
Then the afflicted family search for the sentence, which 
fell unfinished from those loved, those venerable and pi- 
ous lips. They find it recorded by the prophet Jeremiah, 
containing the direction of infinite Wisdon:, and the prom- 
ise of unbounded Goodness ; " Leave thy fatherless chil- 
dren ; I will preserve them alive ; and Ut thy widows 
trust in me.'"* — This, now, is the comfort ol their life, and 
the joy of tlieii heart. They treasure it up in their mem- 
ories. It is the best of legacies, and an inv:xhaustible 
fund : A fund which will supply all their wants, by entail- 
ing the blessing of Heaven on all their honest labors. — 
They are rich, they a/J happy, in this sacred pledge of the 
divine favor. They fear no evil; they \\ant no good; be- 
cause God is their portion, and their guardian God. 

No sooner turned from one memento of my own, and 
memorial of another's decease, but a second, a third, a long 
succession of these melancholy moiiitors croud upon my 
sight t — That which has fixed my observation, is one of a 
more grave and stable aspect than the former. I suppose 
it preserves Uie relics of a more aged person. One would 
conjecture, that he made somewhat of a figure in his stcl- 
tion among the livinp:, as his monument does among the 
funeral marbles. Let me dravv near, and inquire of the 
stone ! " Who, or what, is beneath its surface !" — ^1 am 
informed, he was once the owner of a considerable estate ; 
v/hich was much improved, by his own application and 
management : that he left the world in the busy period of 
life, advanced a little beyond the meridian. 

* Jerem xlix. 11 » 
t ■' Flurinia mortis w/i^^o.— Virg* 



44 MEDITATIONS 

Probably, replied my musing mind, one of those inde- 
fatigable drudges, who rise early ; late take rest; and eat 
the bread oi carefulness ; not to secure the loving kind- 
ness of the Lord : not to make provision lor any reasona- 
ble necessity ; but only to amass together ten thousand 
times more than they can possibly use.— Did he not lay 
schemes for enlarging his iof tune, and aggrandizing his 
family ? Did he not purpose to join field to field, and add 
house to house ; till his possessiot.s were ahjicst as vast as 
his desires'/ That, then, he would sit down, and enjoy what 
he had acquired ;* breathe a while from his toilsonie pur- 
suit of things tenriporalj and, perhaps, think a little of things 
eternal. 

But see the folly of worldly wisdom ! How silly, how: 
chik'ish, is the sagacity of (v\ hat is called) mainly and mas- 
terly prudence ; when it contrives more solicitously for 
time, than it provides for eternity ! How strangely infatu- 
ated are those subtile heads, which weary themselves in 
concerting measures for phantoms of a day, and scarce be- 
stow a thought on everlasting realities! — When every 
wheel moves on smoothly ; when all the well-disposed de- 
signs are ripening apace for execution ; and the long-ex- 
pected crisis of enjoyment seems to approach ; behold ! 
God from on high laughs at the Sabei-builder. Death 
touches the bubble, and it breaks ; it drops into nothing. 
The cobweb, most finely spun ind^^ed, but more easily dis- 
loged, is swept away in an instant ; and all the abortive 
projects are buried, in the same grave with their projec- 
tor. So true is that verdict, which the Wisdom from a- 
bove passes on these successful u r. fortunate s : " They walk 
" in a vain shadow, and disquiet themselves in vain."t 

Speak, ye that attend such a one In his last minutes ; ye 
that heard his expiring sentiments ; did he not cry out, in 
the language of disappointed sensuality ? — *' O Death ! 
*' how terrible is thy approach, to a man immersed in sec- 
" ular cares, and void of all concern for the never ending 
" hereafter ! W' here, alas ! is the profit, the comfort, of 
•^ entering deep into the knowledge, and of being dexter- 

# ■ Hac TY ente laborem 

Se e ferre, sere'^ ut in otia tu-a recedant. 

Aiunt, cuiii sibi sint congcbta cibaria.— ^c^r, 

t Psalm xxxix. ^. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 45 

** ons in the dispatch of earthly affairs; since I have, all 
" the wiiile neglected the ' one thing needful 1' — Destruc- 
" tive mistake ! I have been attentive to every inferior in- 
*^ terest ; I have laid myself out on the trifles of a moment 
'' — but have disregarded heaven, have forgot eternal a- 

" ges I — O that my days" Here he was going on to 

breathe some fruitless wishes, or to foiTn I know not what 
ineffectual resolutions. But a sudden convulsion shook 
his nerves ! disabled his tongue ; and, in less than an hour, 
dissolved his frame. 

May the children of this world be warned by the dying 
words of an unhappy brother and gather advantage from 
his misfortune. — Why should they pant with such impa- 
tient ardor, after white and yellow earth ; as if the uni- 
verse did not afford sufficient for every one to take a little ? 
Why should they lade themselves with thick clay, wiien 
they are to '' run for an incorruptible crown, and press to- 
wards the prize of their high calling r" Why should they 
overload the vessel, in which their everlasting all is em- 
barked : or fill their arms with superfluities, when they are 
to swim for their lives ? — Yet, so preposterous is the con- 
duct of those persons, who are all industry, to heap up an 
abundance of the wealth which perisheth ; but are -scarce 
so much as faintly desirous, of being rich towards God. 

O ! that we may walk from henceforth through all these 
glittering toys, at least with a wise indifference, if not with 
a superior disdain ! Having enough for the conveniences 
of life, let us only accommodate ourselves with things be* 

low, and lay up our treasures in the regions above. 

Whereas, if we indulge an anxious concern, or lavish an 
inordinate care, on any transitory possessions ; we shall 
rivet them to our affections wkh so firm an union, that the 
utm.ost severity of pain must attend the separating stroke. 
By such an eager attachment, to what will certainly be 
lavished from us ; we shall only insure to ourselves accu- 
mulated anguish, against the agonizing hour. We shall 
plant, aforehand, our dying pillow with thorns.* 

Some. I perceived, arrived at threescore years and ten, 
before they made their exit ; nay, som.e few resigned not 

* Lean f^3t on earth ; 'rwill p'-erce thee to the heart ; 

A broken reed at best, but oft a spear: 

On its sharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires. 



46 MEDITATIONS 

their breath, till they had numbered fourscore revolving 
harvests. These, 1 would hope, " remembered their Cre- 
" ator in the days of their youth ;" before their strength 
became labor and sorrow ; — before that low ebb ot lan- 
guishing nature, wl^en '' the keepers of the house trem- 
" hie, and those that look out of the windows are darken- 
" ed ;"* when even the lighting down of the grasshopper 
is a burden on the bending shoulders, and desire itself fails 

in the listlesss, lethargic soul ; before those heavy 

hours come, and those tiresome moments draw nigb, in 
wiiich there is too much reason to say, " We have no 
pleasure in them ; no improvement from them.'' 

If their lamps v^ere furnished with oil ; how unfit must 
they be, in such decrepit circumstances, to go to the mark- 
et, and buy If For, be bides a variety of disorders arising 
from the enfeebled constitution, their corruptions must be 
surpiisingiy strengthened by such a long course of irreli- 
gion. Evil habits must have struck the deepest root ; 
must have tv/isted themselves with every fibre of the heart; 
and be as thoroughly ingrained in the disposition, as the 
sotjt in the ^thiopia^]'3 complexion, or the spots in the 
Leopard's skin. If such a or.e, under such disadvantages, 
surniounts all the difficulties which lie in his way to glory, 
it must be a great and mighty salvation indeed. If such 
a one escapes destructioru and is saved at last ; it must, 
v/ithout all perad venture, be — so as by fire-l: 

This is the season which stajtds in need of comfort, and 
is very improper to enter T?pon the conflict. The hus- 
bandman should DOW be^putting in his sickle, creating the 
fruit of his labors ; rot begmning to break up the ground, 
or scatter the seed.— Nothing, it is true, is impossible with 
God : He said, " Let there be light, and there was light ;" 
Instantaneous li.eht, diffused, as quick as thought, through 
all the dismal dominion of primaeval darkness. At his 
command a leprosy of the longest continuance^ and of the 

* Eccl. xii, 3, 5 I need not remind my reader, that, by the for- 
mer of these figurative expressions, is signified the enervated state cf 
the hands and arms; by the latter, the dimness of the eyes, or the 
tota! loss of sight ; That, taken in connection with other parts of the 
chap'er, they exhibit, in a series of bold and lively metaphors, a de- 
scription of the various infirmities attendant on old age. 

t Matt. XXV. 9. 1 Cor. iii. 15. 



AMONG THK TOMBS. 47 

Utmost inveteracy, departs in a moment. He can in the 
greatness of his strength, quicken the wretch, who has lain 
dead in trespasses and sins, not four d:.ys only, but four- 
score years. — Yet trust not, O trust not, a point of such 
inexpressible importance, to so dreadful an uncertainty. 
God may suspend his power; may withdraw his help ; may 
swear in his wrath, that such abusers of his long-suffering 
shall *' never enter into his rest." 

Ye, therefore, that are vigorous in health, and blooming 
in years, improve the precious opportunity. Improve 
your golden iiours, to the noblest of all purposes ; such as 
may render you meet for the inheritance of saints in light ; 
and ascertain your title to a state of immortal youth, to a 
crown of eternal glory. — Stand not, all the prime of your 
day, idle : trifle no longer with the offer of this immense 
felicity ; but make haste, and delay not the time, to keep 
God's commandments.* While you are loitering in a gay 
insensibility, death may be bending his bow, and marking 
you out for speedy victims. Not long ago, I happened to 
spy a thoughtless jay. The poor bird was idly busied in 
dressing his pretty plumes, or hopping carelessly from 
spray to spray. A sportsman, coming by, obsen'es the 
feathered rover. Immediately he lifts the tube, and levels 
his blow. Swifter than whirlwind flies the leaden death ; 
and in a moment, lays the silly creature breathless on the 
ground. — Such, such may be the fats of the man, who has 
a fair occasion of obtaining grace to day, and wantonly post- 
pones the improvement of it till to-morrow. He may b^ 

* May I be permitted to recommend, as a treasure of fine senti- 
ments, and a treatise particularly apposite to my subject, Dr Lu- 
cas's Inquiry after Happiness? That part especially, which displays 
the method, and enutrierates the advantages, of improving life, or 
living much in a little time, chap iii. p, 158. of the 6th edit — An 
author, in ^vhom the gentleman, the schol;ir, and the Christian, are 
most happily united. A performance, which^ in point of solid ar- 
gument, unaffected piety, and a vein of thought amazingly fertile, 
has. perhaps, no superior- — Nor can I wish my reader a more reSn- 
ed pleasure, or a more substantial happiness, than that of having 
the sentiments of this entertaining and paihetic writer, wove into the 
very texture of his heart* Unless I might be allowed to wish, that 
the writer himself had interspersed the glorious peculiarities of the 
gospel, (on which our happiness absolutely depends) a litde more 
liberally through all his works^ 



4S MEDITATIONS 

cut off in the nnidst of his folly ; and mined for ever, while 
he is dreaming of being wise hereafter. 

Some, DO doubt, came to this their last retreat, full of pi- 
iety, and full of days : " as a shock of cora, ripe with age, 
and laden with plenty, cometh in, in his season."* — These 
were children of light, and wise in their generstion ; 
wise with that exalted wisdom which cometh from above, 
and with that enduring wisdom which lasts to eternity. — 
Rich also they were, more honorable and more perma- 
nently rich than all the votaries of Mammon. The wealth 
of the one has made itself wings, and is irrecoverably gone; 
while the wj-etchedacqukers are transmitted to that place 
of penury and pain, where not so much as one drop of wa- 
ter is allowed to cool their scorched tongues. The stores 
of the other still abide with them ; will never depart from 
them ; but make them glad, forever and ever, in the city 
of their God. Their treasures were such, as no created 
power could take away ; such as none but infinite benefi- 
cence can bestow; and (comfortable to consider!) such as 
I, and every indigent longing sinner, may obtain ; treas- 
ures of heavenly knowledge, and saving*faith : treasures 
of astonishing blood, and imiputed righteousness. 

Heref lie their bodies in " peaceable habitations, and 
quiet resting places." Here they have thrown off every 

• John V. 26. 

f Some, I know, are offended at our burying corpses within the 
church ; and exclainn agamst it, as a very great impropriety aivJ in- 
decencv. But this, I iniagine, proceed? from an exce^isive aj d tras- 
taken delicacy. If proper care be taken to secure from '^rjury the 
foundations of the building; and to prevent the exhalation of any 
noxious effluvia, from the putrefying flesh ; I cannot discover any 
inconveniences attending this practice. 

The notion, that noisome circas>es (as they are called) are very 
unbecoming a place con8errat€d to religious purposes, seems to be 
derived from the antiquated Jewish canon ; whereby it was declar- 
ed, that a dead body iapfparred defilement to the person who louched 
it, and polluted the J^pot where n was lodged On which account, 
the Jews were scrupulously Cijjeful to have their sepulchres built at 
a distance from iheir houses ; and made it a t^oint of con&cjence not 
to suffer burial places to subsist in the city. But as thJK c/a? % rite 
purely ceremonial; it seems to bt entirely supcrFeded by the gospe! 
dispensation. 

I cannot forbear thinking, that tinder the Chnstlan oeconomy, 
there is a propiiety and usefulness iri 'he cu&torr>.— Ui»efuluesb be* 
cause 2t must render our sol^n assemblies more venerable and aw- 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 49 

bnrden, and escaped from every snare. The head aches 
no more : the eye forgets to weep ; the flesh is no longer 
racked with acute, nor wast-.ed with lingeruig distempers. 
Here they receive a final release from pain, and an ever- 
lasting discharge from sorrovv. Here danger never threat- 
ens them with her terrifying alarms; but tranquillity soft- 
ens their couch, and safety guards their repose. — Rest then, 
ye precious relics, within ,this hospitable gloom. Rest in 

ful. For when we walk over the dust of our friends, or kneel upon 
the ashes of our relations; this awakening circunistance must strike 
a lively impression of our own mortality. And what consideration 
can be move eflfectual» to make us serious and attentive in hearings 
earnest and importunate in praying? 

As for the ftiness of the usage, it seems perfectly suitable to the 
des'gn of those sacred edifices. They are set apart for God; not 
only to receive his vv^orshippers, bur to preserve the furniture for ho- 
ly ministrations, and what is in a peculiar manner, appropriated to 
the Divine iVIajesty. Are not the bodies of the saints the Almigh- 
ty ^s property ? Were they not once the objects of his tender love ? 
Are they not st;II the objects of his special care ? Has he not given 
commandment concerning the bones of his elect ; and charged the 
ocean, and enjoined the grave, to keep them until that day ? When 
rocks br-ght with gems, or mountains rich with mines are abandon^ 
ed to the devouring flames ; will not these be rescued from the fiery 
ruin ? W ill not these be translated into Jehovah s kingdom, and^ con- 
jointly with the soul, made " his jewels," made •' his peculiar treas* 
ure;" made to shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the 
stars for ever and ever ? 

Is not Christ the Lord of our bodies ? Are they not bought, not 
with corruptible things, silver and gold, but with his divinely precious 
blood. And if the blessed Jesus purchased the redemption of our 
bodies, at so infinitely dear a rate ; can it ever enter into our hearts 
to conceive, that he should dislike to have them reposed under his 
habitation? — Once more; Are not the bodies of the fairhful, tem- 
ples of the Holy Ghost ? And is there not upon this supposition, an 
apparent propriety, rather than the least indecorum ; in remitting 
these temples of flesh to the temples made with hands? They are 
vessels of honor; instruments of righteousness; and, even vphen 
broken by death, like the fragments of a golden bowl, are valuable ; 
areworthy to be laid up in the safest, most honorable repositories. 

Upon the whole, since the Lord Jesus has purchased ar the ex- 
pence of his blood, and the blessed Spirit has honored them with his 
indwelling presence ; since they are right dear in the sight of the 
adorable Trinity, and undoubted heirs of a glorious immortality ; 
why should it be thought a thing improper, to adnnit them to a 
transient rest in their heavenly Father's house ? why may they not 
lie down and sleep in the outer courts, since they are soon to be in- 
troduced into the inmost naa*sions of everlasting honor and joy ? 
E 



30 ' MEDITATIONS 

gentle slumbers, till the last trumpet shall give the wel- 
come signal, and sound aloud through all your silent man- 
sions '' Arise : shine ; for your light is come, and the glo- 
ry of the Lord is risen upon you."* 

To these, how calm was the evening of life ! In what a 
smiling serenity did their sun go down I When their flesh 
and their heart failed, how reviving was the remembi ance 
of an all-sufficient Redeemer, once dying for their sins, 
now risen again for their justification ! How cheering the- 
well-grounded hope of pardon for their transgressions, and 
peace with God, thougli Jesus Christ our Lord ! How did 
this assuage the agonies, and sweeten the bitterness of 
death ? Where now is wealth, with all her golden moun- 
ta.ins ? Where is honor, with her proud trophies of re- 
nown ? Where are all the vain pomps of a deluded world ? 
Can they inspire such comfort, can they administer any 
support, in this last extremity ? Can they compose the af- 
frighted thoughts ; or buoy up the departing soul, amidst 
all the pangs of dissolution i— The followers of the Lamb 
seem pleased and triumphant, even at their last grasp. 
" God's everlasting arms are underneath*'* their fainting 
heads. His spirit whispers peace and consolation to their 
consciences. In the strength of these heavenly succors, 
they quit the field, not captives, but conquerors ; with 
** hopes full of immortality." 

And now they are gone. — The struggles of reluctant 
nature are over. The body sleeps in death : the soul 
launches into the invisible state. But who can imagine 
the delightful surprise, when they find themselves surroun- 
ded by guardian angels, instead of weeping friends ? How 
securely do they wing their way, and pass through unknown 
•worlds, under the conduct of those celestial guides ! — The 
vale ot tears is quite lost. Farewell, for ever, the realms 
of woe, and range of malignant beings 1 They arrive on 
frontiers of inexpressible felicity. They " are come to the 
city of the living God ;" while a voice, sweeter than mu- 
sic in her softest strains, sweet as the harmony of hymn- 
ing seraphim, congratulates their arrival, and bespeaks 
their admission : "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and 
be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; that the heirs of gloi^ 
may enter in.'* 

# Isa, jx. 1» t Deut. xxxiii, 27* 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 5 1 

Here, then, let us leave the spirits and souls of the 
righteous, escaped from an entangling wilderness, and re- 
ceived into a paradise of delights ; escaped from the terri- 
tories of disquietude, and settled in regions of unmolested 
security ! Here they sit down with Abraham, I^aac and 
Jacob, in the kingdom of their father. Here ihey mingle 
witii an innumerable company of angels, and rejoice around 
the throne of the Lamb ; rejoice in the fruition of present 
feiiiity, and in the assured expectation of an inconceivable 
addition to their bliss ; when God shall call the heavens 
from above, and the earth that he may judge his people.* 

Fools accounted their life madness, and their end to be 
without honor ; but they are numbered among the children 
of God, and their lot, their distinguished and eternal lot is 
among the saints.f However, therefore^^an undiscerning 
world may despise, and a profane world vilify, the truly re- 
ligious ; be this the supreme, the invariable desire of my 
heart ! " Let me live the life, and die the death, of the 
righteous. " Oh ! let my latter end, and future state be 
like theirs 1" 

What figure is that which strikes my eye from an em- 
inent part of tlie wall ? It is not only placed in a more ele- 
vated situation than the rest, but carries a more splendid 
and sumptuous air than ordinary. Swords and spears ; 
murdering engines, and instruments of slaughter; adorn 
the stone with a formidable magnificence. — It proves to 
be the monument of a noble warrior. 

Is such respect, thought I, paid to the memory of this 
brave soldier for sacrificing his life to the public good ? — 
Then, what honors, what immortal honors, are due to the 
great Captain of our salvation ? who, though Lord of the 

* Seneca's reflection upon the state of the holy souls, delivered 
frciTi the burden of the flesh, are sparkling and fine • yet very in- 
distinct and empty, compared with the particulars n.entioned above* 
and with uiany others that might be collected from scripture. In 
hoc tarn proLclloso, et in omnea tempesiates exposito navigantibus 
mari, nuUus pcrtus, nisi mortis est. Ne iiaque invideris iratri tuo ■ 
ijuie^cit- Tandem Lber, tandem tutus, tandem ceternas est. Frui- 
tur hune aperto et libero coslo ; ex humdi et depressb, in cum emi- 
cuit locum, qui soiutas vinculis animas beato reclpit sinu ; et nun 
comnia rerum natura bona cum summa voluptate percipit. 

Sm.adFolyb.. 

t Wisdom V. 4, 5. 



5ii J MEDITATIONS 

angelic legions, and supreme comnnander of aH the heav- 
enly hosts, willingly offered himself a bleeding propitiation 
for sinners ! 

The one died being a mortal ; and only yielded up a 
life, which was long before forfeited to divine justice ; 
which must soon have been surrendered as a debt to na- 
ture, if it had not fallen as a prey to war-* But Christ took 
flesh, and gave up the ghost, though he was the great I 
AINJ ; the fountain of existence ; who calls happiness and 
immortality all his own. He, who thought it no robbery 
to be equal with God , he whose outgoings were from ev- 
erlasting ; even he, was made in the likeness of man, arid 
cut off out of the land of the living. Wonder, O heav- 
«^ns! Be astonished, O earth ! HE died the death, of 
whom it is witnessed, that he is '^ the true God, and eter- 
nal Life/^^ 

The one exposed himself to peril, in the sen'ice of his 
sovereign and his country; which, though it was glorious 
to do, yet would have been ignominious, in such circum- 
stances, to have declined — But Christ took the field, tho* 
be was the blessed and only Potentate ; the King of kings, 
and Lord of lords. Christ took the field, though he w'as 
sure to drop in the engagement ; and put on the harness, 
though he knew beforehand that it must reek with his 
blood. That Prince of Heaven resigned his royal perton, 
not barely to the hazard, but to the inevitable stroke ; to 
death, certain in its approach, and armed with all its hor- 
rors.— -And for whom. ? Not for those who were in any de- 
gree deserving ; but for his ov.tj eisobecient creatures ; 
for the pardon of condemned malefactors ; for a bar:d of 
rebels, a race of traitors, and the most obnoxious and inex- 
<• usable of all criminrls : v;hom he might hcve left to per- 
ish in their iniquites, ^vitbout the least impeachment of his 
goodness, and to the disp-ay of his avenging justice. 

The one, 'tis probable, died expeditiously ; was sudden- 
ly wounded, and soon slain, A bullet lodged in his heart ; 
a sword, sheatlied in his breast ; or a battle-axe, cleaving 
the brain ; might put a speedy end to his misery ; dispatch 
him '' as in a moment." — Whereas the divine -Redeemer 
expired in tedious and r retracted torments. His pangs 
w^ere as lingering, as they were exquisite. Even in the 
prelude to his hist suffering, what a load of sorrows over- 
* 1 John V. 20. * 



AMONG THE TOMQS. 53 

whelmed his sacred humamty! till the intolerable pres- 
sure wrung biood, instead of sweat from ever) pore ; till 
the crimson flood bathed his body, stained all his raiment, 
and tingea the very stones. — But vvhen the last scene of the 
tragedy commenced^ when the executioner's hammer had 
nailed him to the cross ; O ! how many dismal hours did 
that iiiustiious sufferer hang ; a spectacle of woe, to God, 
to Angels, and to men ! His temples mangled with the 
thorny crown ! his hands and feet cleft with the rugged 
Irons I his whole body covered with wounds and bruises t 
and his soul, his veiy soul, pierced with pangs of unuttera- 
ble disJtress ? So long he hung, that nature, through all 
her dominions, was tlirown into sympathising commotions. 
The earth could no longer sustain such barbarous indig- 
nities, without trembling ; nor the sun behold them with- 
out horror. Nay, so long did he ha:«g in this extremity of 
torture, that the alarm reached even the remote regions of 
the dead. — Never, O my soul, never forget the ai^azing 
trtith ! The Lamb of God was seized ; was bound ; was 
slaughtered with the utmost inhumanity and endured death, 
in all its bitterness, for thee ! His murderers, studiously 
cruel, so guided the fatal cup ; that he tasted every drop of 
its gall, before he drank it off to the very dregs. 

Once again : the warrior died like a hero, and fell gal- 
lantly in the field of battle. — But died not Christ as a fool 
dieth ?* Not on the bed of honor, with scars of glory in 
his breast ; but, like some execrable miscreant, on a gib- 
bet ; with lashes of the vile scourge on his back. Yes, the 
blessed Jesus bowed liis expiring head, on the accursed 
tree ; suspended between heaven and earth, as an outcast 
from both, and unworthy of either. 

What suitable returns of inflamed and adoring devotion 
can we make to the Holy One of God ? thus dying, that 
we might live ! dying in ignominy and anguish, that we 
might live forever in the heights of joy, and sit for ever on 
thrones of glory ? — Alas ! it is not in us, impotent, insen-^^; 
sible mortals, to be duly thankful. He only, who confers 
such inconceivably rich favors, can enkindle-^ proper 
^varmth of grateful affection. Then build thyself a monu- 
ment, most gracious Immanuel ! build thyself an everlast- 

* 2 Sam. iii.33. Of this indignity our Lord complains j <*Are 
ye come out as against 9, ttef i" Mfttt»xxvi. 55^ 



54 MEDITATIONS 

ing monument of gratitude in our souis. Inscribe the 
memory of thy matchless beneficence, not with ink and 
pen ; but with that precious blood, which gushed from thy 
wounded veins. Engrave it, not with the hammer and 
chizei ; but with that sharpened spear, which pierced thy 
sacred side. Let it stand conspicuous and indelible, not 
en outward tables of stone ; but on the very inmost tables 
of our hearts. 

One thing more let me observe, before I bid adieu to 
this intombed warrior, and his garnished sepulchre. How 
mean are these ostentatious methods, of briDing the vote 
of fame, and purchasing a little posthumous renown ! What 
a poor substitute for a set of memorable actions, is polished 
alabaster, or the mimicry of sculpmred marble ! The ex- 
cellency of this bleeding patriot,* is written on the minds 
of his countrymen, it would be remenibered with ap- 
plause, so long as the nation subsists, without this artificial 
expedient to perpetuate it. — And such, such is the mi;nu- 
ment I would wish for myself. Let me leave a memorial 
in the breasts of my fellow creatures. Let surviving 
friends bear witness, that I have not lived to myself aione, 
jior been altogether unserviceable in my generation ? O I 
let an uninterrupted series of beneficent offices be the in- 
scription ; and the best interests of my acquaintance, the 
plate that exhibits it. 

Let the poor as they pass by my grave, point at the lit- 
tle spot, and thankfully acknowledge — '' There lies the 
** man, whose unwearied kindness was the constant relief 
" of my various distresses ; who tenderly visited my lan- 

* Sir Bevil Granville, slain in the civil wais, at an engagement 
with the rebels — It may possibly be some entertainment to the read- 
er, if I subjoin Sir BeviPs character as it is dra'^n by that ceiebiated 
pen, which wrote the history of those calamitous times.—'* That 
•* which would have clouded any victory, says the noble historian, 
** and made the loss of others less spoken of, was the dearh of Sir 
** Bevil Granville. He was indeed an excellent person, whose ac- 
*• tivity, interest, and reputation, were 'he foundation cf v. hat had 
*rbeen done in Cornwall : Hi£ temper and affections so publ:c, that 
•» no accident which happened, would rr»ake any inepression upon 
*' h\m ! and his example kept others fron- taking any ihjng ill-, or at 
*• least seeming to do so. In a word, a brighter courage, and a gen- 
•* tier disposition, were never married together, to make the most 
'• cheerful and innocent conversation." 

Clar. Hht^ RehdL vol. il 



AMONG IME TOMBS. DO 

<* guishing bed, and readily supplied my indigent ciixum- 
*' stunces. How often were his counsels a guiae to my 
*^ perplexed thoughts, and a cordial to my dejected spirit ! 
'' it is owing to God's blessing on his seasonable charities. 
^' and prudert consolations, that 1 now live, and live in 
" comfort." — Let a person once ignorant and ungodly? 
lift up his eyes to heaven, and say within himself, as he 
walks over my bones, ^' Here are the last remains of that 
'' sincere friend who v/atched for my soul. I can never 
*' forget, with what heedless gaiety 1 was posting on hi the 
'* path of perditiori ; and I tremble to think, into what irre- 
" trievabie ruin I m.ight quickly have been plunged, hat? 
" not his faithful admonitions arrested me in the wild ca- 
" reer. 1 was unacquainted with the gospel of peace, and 
*' had no concern for its unsearchable treasures ; but now, 
" enlightened by his instructive conversation, I see the all- 
" sufficiency of my Savior ; and, animated by his spirited 
*' exhortations, I count all things but loss, that 1 may win 
*' Christ. Methinks, his discourses, seasoned with reli- 
*^ gion, and set home hf the divine- Spirit, still tingle in luy 
*' ears ; are still warm on my heart; and, I trust, will be 
" more and more operative, till we meet each other in the 
*' house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 

The only infallible way of immortalizing our charac- 
ters ; a way equpdly open to the meanest and mos^t exalted 
fortune ; is, " to make our calling and election sure;" to 
gain some sweet evidence, that our names are written in- 
heaven. Then, however they may be disregarded or for- 
gotten among men, they will not fail to be hadjn everlast- 
ing remembrance before the Lord. — This is, of all distinc- 
tions, far the noblest. This will issue in^ never-dying re- 
nown. Ambition, be this thy object, and every page of 
scripture will sanctify thy passion; even grace itself will 
fan thy flame. — As to earthly memorials, yet a little while, 
and they are all obliterated. The tongue of those, whose 
happiness we have zealously promoted, nmst soon be silent 
in the coiiin. Characters cut with a pen of iron, and commit- 
ted to the solid rock, will ere long cease to be legible.* But 
as mi-any as are enrolled ''" in the Lamb's book of life,'*' he 
himself declares, shall never be blotted out from those an- 
nals of Eteniity.t When a flight of years. has mouldered 
* Da^a sun tipsis quor|ue fata sepulchris. 



56 MKBirATIONS 

the trirmpbai column into dust ; when the brazen statue 
perishes, under the corroding hand of tinrie ; those honors 
still continue ; still are blooming unci incorruptible, in the 
world of glory. 

Make the extended skies your tomb .; 

Let stars record your worth : 
Yet know, vainrnortals, all must die, 

As Nature's" sickliest birth. 

Would bounteous heav'n indulge my prayV^ 

I frame a nobler choice ; 
I^or, living, wish the pompous pile ; 

Nor, dead, regret the loss. 

In thy fair book of life divine, 

My God, inscribe my name ; 
There let it fill some humble place. 

Beneath the slaughter'd Lamb. 

Thy saints, while ages roll away, 

In endless fame survive ; 
Their glories, o'er the wrongs of time, 

Greatly triumphant, live. 

Yonder entrance leads, I suppose, to the vault. Let me 
turn aside, and take one view of the habitation, and its ten« 
ants. — The sullen door grates upon its hinges : Not used 
to receive many visitants, it admits me with reluctance and 
murmurs. — What meaneth this sudden trepidation, while 
I descend the steps, and am visiting the pale mansions of 
the dead ; — Be composed, my spirits ; there is nothing to 
fear in these quiet chambers. *^ Here, even the wicked 
cease from troubling.*' 

Good Heavens ! what a solemn scene ! — How dismal the 
gloom ! Here is perpetual darkness, and night even at 
2ioon-day. — How doleful the solitude ! Not one trace of 
cheerful society; but sorrow and terror seem to have 
made this their dreaded abode. — Hark ! how the hollow 
dome resounds at every tread. The echoes, that long 
have slept, are awakened ; and lament, and sigh along the 
walls. 

A beaiDj or two, finds its way through the grates i and 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 57 

reflects a feeble glimmer, from the nails of the coffins.— 
So many of those sad spectacles, half concealed m shades ; 
half seen cHmiy by the baleful twilight ; add a deeper hor- 
ror to these gloomy mansions. — I pore upon the inscrip- 
tions, — and am just able to pick out, that these are the re- 
mains of the rich and renowned. No vulgar dead are de- 
posited here. The most illustrious, and right honorable, 
have claimed this for their last retreat. And, indeed, they 
retain somewhat of a shadowy pre-eminence. They lie, 
ranged in mournful order, and in a sort of silent pomp, un- 
der the arches of an ample sepulchre ; while meaner corp- 
ses, without much ceremony, " go down to the stones of 
the pit." 

My apprehensions recover from their surprise,! find, here 
are no phantoms, but such as fear raises.— However, it still a- 
mazes me, to observe the wonders of this nether world. 
Those who received vast revenues, and called whole lord- 
ships their own, axe here reduced to half a dozen feet of 
earth, or confined in a few sheets of lead. Rooms of state, 
and sumptuous furniture, are resigned ; for no other orna- 
ment than the shroud, for no other aparment than the dark- 
some niche. — Where is the star, that blazed upon the 
breast ; or coronet that glittered round the temples ? The 
only remains of departed dignity are, the weather-beaten 
hatchment, and the tattered escutcheon. I see no splen- 
did retinue surrounding this solitary dwelling. The lord- 
ly equipage hovers ito longer about the lifeless master. 
He has no other attendant, than a dusty statue ; which 
while the regardless world is as gay as ever, the sculp- 
tor's hand has taught to weep. 

Those who gloried in high-born ancestors, and nob'e 
pedigree, here drop their lofty pretensions. They ac- 
knowledge kindred with creeping things, and quarter arms 
with the meanest reptiles. " They say to corruptionrThovi 
art my father; and to the worm, Thou art my mother, and 
my sister" — Or, should they siill assume the style of dis-= 
tinction, ah ! how impotent were the claim ? how apparent 
the ostentation ! Is it said by their monuments, " Here lies 
the great.". How easily is it replied by the spectator ! 

• ^ False marble ! Where ? 



Nothing but poor and sordid dust lies here. 



58 MEDITATIONS 

Mortifying truth ! Sufficient, one would think, to wean the 
most sanguine appetite from this transitory state ci things ; 
from its sickly satisfactions, its fading glories, its vanish- 
ing treasures. 

For now, ye lying vanities of life ! 

Ye ever-tempting, ever- cheating train ! 

Where are ye now ? and what is your amount ? 

What is all the world to these poor breathless beings r 
What are their pleasures ? A bubble broke. — What their 
honors ? A dream that is forgotten i — What the sum total 
of their enjoyments below ? Once, perhaps, it appeared to 
inexperienced and fond desire, something considerable : 
but now death had measured it with his hne, and weighed 
it m his scale.— What is the upshot? Alas ! it is shorter 
than a span : lighter than the dancing spark ; and driven 
away like the dissolving smoke. 

Indulge, my soul, a serious pause. Recollect all the 
gay things, that w^ere wont to dazzle thy eyes, and invei- 
gle thy affections. Here, examine those baits of sense ; 
here, form an estimate of their real value. Suppose thy- 
self first among the favorites of fortune, who revel in the 
lap of pleasure, who shine in the robes of honor, and swim 
in the tides of inexhausted riches: yet how soon would 
the passing-bell prpclaiui thy exit I and, when once that 
iron call has summoned thee to liiy future reckoning, where 
would all these gratifications be ? At that pei iod, how will 
all the pageantry of the most alRuent, splendid, or luxuri» 
ous circumstances, vanish into an empty air ! — -And is this 
a happiness, so passionately to be coveted ? 

I tliank you. ye relics of sounding titles, and magnificent 
names. Ye have taught me more of the littleness of the 
world, than all the volumes of my library. Your nobility 
arrayed in a winding-sheet, your grandeur miOuldering in 
an urn, are the most indisputable proofs of the nothing- 
ness of created things. Never, surely, did Providence 
write this important print, in such legible cliaracters, as in 
the ashes of My Lord, or on the corpse of His Grace.* — 
Let others, if they plccise, pay their obsequious court tc 

•—,«-. Morssola fatetul• 
Q^antula sint hominum corpuscula— — yz.t- 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 69 

vour wealthy sons ; and ignobly fnvn, or anxiously sue, 
:br prefer meuts. My ihoughts shall often resort, in pen- 
sive contemplation, to the sepulchres of their sires ; and 
learn, from tlidr siec[:...g dust— to moderate my expec- 
tations from mortais — to stand disengaged from every un- 
dui- attachment to the little interests of time — to get a- 
bove the delusive amusements of honor, the gaudy tinsels 
of wealth, and all the empty shadows of a perishing world. 

Hark 1 what sound is that !— In such a situation, every 
noise alarms — Solemn and slow, it breaks again upon the 
silent air. — it is the striking of the clock. Designed, one 
•would imagine, to ratify ail my sericus meditations. Me- 
thinks, it says, Amen, and sets a seal, to every improving 
hint. It tells me, that another portion of my appointed 
time is elapsed. One calls it, *'the kuell of my departed 
hours." it is the watch-word to vigilance and acdvity. 
It cries in the ear of reason, *' Redeem the time. Catch 
''* the favorable gales of opportunity : O ! catch them, 
^' while they breathe ; before they are irrecoverably lost. 
" The span of life shortens continually. Thy minutes are 
'• all upon the w^ing, and hastening to be gone. Thou art 
" a borderer upon eternity ; and making incessant advan- 
" ces to the state thou art contemplating." May the ad- 
monition sink deep into an attentive and obedient mind ! 
^lay it teach me that heavenly arithmetic, "' of numbering 
my days, and applying my heart unto v/isdom." 

I have often walked, beneath the impending promonto- 
ry's craggy cliff; I have sometimes trod the vast spaces 
of the lonely desert ; and penetrated the inmost recesses 
of the dreary cavern : but never, never beheld nature lour- 
ing, with so tremendous a form ; never felt such impres- 
sions of av/e, striking cold on my heart ; as under these 
black-browed arches, amidst these mouldy walls, and sur- 
rounded by such rueful objects, where melancholy, deep- 
est melancholy, for ever spreads her raven wings. — Let 
me now emerge from the damp and dreadful obscurity.- — 
Farewell, ye seats of desolation, and shades of death ! Glad- 
ly I revisit the realms of day. 

Having cast a superficial view upon these receptacles 
of the dead, curiosity prompts my inquiry to a more inti- 
mate survey. Could we draw back the covering of the 
lomb ; could we discern what those are now, who once 
were mortals — O I how would it surprise, and grieve us t 



60 MEDITATI©NS 

Surprise us, to behold tue prodigious transformation which 
has taken place on every individual ; grieve us, to observe 
the dishonor done to our nature in genera], within these 
subterraneous lodgments ! 

Here tne sweet and winning aspect, that wore perpetu- 
ally an attractive smile, grins horribly, a naked, ghastly 
skull — ^The eye that outshone the diamond's brilliancy, 
and glanced the lovely lightning into the most guarded 
heart ; alas, where is it ? Where shall we find the rolling 
sparkler ? how are ail its sprightly beams eclipsed ! total- 
ly eclipsed ! — The tongue, that once commanded all the 
sweetness of harmony, and all the power of eloquence, in 
this strange land, has " forgot its cunning." AVhere are 
now those strains of harmony which ravished our ears ? 
Where is that flow of persuasion, which carried captive 
our judgments ? The great master of language, and of 
song, is become silent as the night that surrounds him. 
The pampered flesh, so lately clothed in purple and fine 
linen, how is it covered rudely with clods of clay ! There 
was a time, when the timorously nice creature would scarce 
" adventure to set a foot upon the ground, for delicateness 
and tenderness ;"* but is now enwrapped m clammy earth > 
and sleeps on no softer a pillow than the ragged gravel- 
'dtones. — Here, '^ the strong men bow themselves." The 
nervous arm is unstrung ; the brawny sinews are relaxed ; 
the limbs, not long ago the seats of vigor and activity, lie 
down motionless; and the bonesj which were as bars of 
iron, are crumbled into dust. 

Here the man of business forgets all his favorite 
schemes, and discontinues the pursuit of gain. — Here is a 
total stand to the circulation of merchandise, and the hurry 
of trade. In these solitary recesses, as in the building of 
Solomon's temple, is heard no sound of the hammer and 
axe. The winding-sheet, and the coffin, are the utmost 
bound of all earthly devices. " Hitherto may they go, but 
no farther." — Here, the sons of pleasure take a final fare- 
well of their dear delights. No more is the sensualist ?n- 
ointed with oil, or crowned with rose-buds. He chants no 
more to the melody of the viol, nor revels any longer at the 
banquet of wine. Instead of sumptuous tables, and deli- 
cious treats, the poor voluptuary is himself a feast for fat- 
tened insects ; the reptile riots in his flesh ; '^ the worm 
Deut. xxviii. 56' 



AMONG THE TOMBS, 61 

feeds sweetly on him."* — Here also beauty fails ; bright 
beauty drops her lustre here. O ! how her roses fade, 
and her lilies languish in this bleak soil ! How does the 
grand leveller pour contempt upon the charmer of our 
hearts ! how turn to deformity what captivated the world 
before ! 

Could the lover have a sight of his once inchanting fair 
one, what a startling astonishment would seize him ! — ^* Is 
" this the object I not long ago so passionately admired ! 
" I said she was divinely fair ; and thought her soinewhat 
^' more than mortal. Hci-iorm was symmetry itself ; ev- 
'* ery elegance breathed in her ah' ; and all the graces 
" waited on her motions — It was music when she spoke ; 
** but, when she spoke encouragement, it was Iktle less than 
" rapture. Haw my heart danced to those charming ac- 
" cents !— and can that, which sooie weeks ago was to ad* 
* ' miration lovely, be now so insufferably loathsome ?«— 
•^ Where are those blushing cheeks ? where the coral lips ? 
" where that ivory neck, on w^hich the curling jet, in such 
" glossy ringletsj flowed i with a thousand other beauties 
'* of person>^ and ten thousand delicacies of action ?t — A- 
^' mazing alteration ! delusory bliss 1 — Fondly I gazed up- 
" on the glittering meteor. It shone brightly, and I mis» 
'' took it for a star : for a permanent and substantial good, 
^' But how is it fallen I fallen from an orb, not its own ! 
*' and all that I can trace on earth, is but a putrid mass/* 

Lie, poor Florella ! lie deep, as thou dost, in obscure 
darkness. Let night, with her impenetrable shades, always 
conceal thee. May no prying eye be witness to thy dis- 
grace; but let thy surviving sisters think upon thy state, 
when they contemplate the idol in the glass. When the 
pleasing image rises gracefully to view, surrounded with 
a world of charms, and flushed with joy at the conscious- 
ness of them all ; — then, in those minutes of temptation 
and dangers, when vanity uses to steal into the thoughts, 
-—then, let them remember, what a veil of horror is drawn 
oyer a face, which was once beautiful and brilliant as theirs 

*Jobxxiv. 20. 

t Quo fugit Venus ? Heu \ Quove color ! decens 
Quo motus ? Quid habet iliius. illius, 
Quae spirabat a mores. 
Qua me surp«erat nnihi J—i^ar, 
F 



62 MEDITATIONS 

Such a seasonable reflection might regulate the labors of 
the toilet, and create a more earnest soJicitude, to polish 
the jewels, than to varnish the casket. It might then be- 
come their highest ambition, to have the mind decked with 
virtues, and dressed after the amiable pattern of their Re- 
deemer's holiness-i 

And would this prejudice their persons, or depreciate 
their charms i* — Quite the reverse. It would spread a sort 
of heavenly glory over the finest set of features, and height- 
en the loveliness of every other engaging accomphsh- 
Client. — And, what is yet a more inviting consideration, 
these flowers would not wither with nature, nor be tarnish- 
ed by time ; but would open continually into richer beau- 
ties, and flourish even in the winter of age. — But the most 
incomparable recommendation of these noble qualities* is, 
that from their hallowed relics, as from the fragrant ashes 
of the phoenix, will ere-long arise an illustrious form bright 
as the wings of angels, lasting as the light of the new Je- 
rusalem. 

For my part, the remembrance of this sad revolution 
shall mnke me ashamed to pay my devotion to a shrine of 
perishing flesh, arid afraid to expect all my happiness from 
so brittle a joy. It shall teach me, not to think too highly 
of a well proportioned clay, though formed in the most el- 
egant mould, and animated v*^ith the sweetest soul. It 
is heaven's last, best, and crowning gift, — to be received 
with gratitude, ^nd cherish with love, as a most valuable 
blessing ; not worshipped with the incense of flattery, and 
strains of fulSorne adoration, as a goddess. — It will cure, I 
trust, the dotage of my eyes : and incline me always to 
prefer the substantial " ornaments of a meek and virtuous 
spirit," before the transient decorations of white and red on 
the skin. 

Here I called in my roving meditations from their long 
excursion on this tender subject. Fancy listened a while 
to the soliloquy of a lover. No judgment resumes the 
reins, and guides iny thoughts to more near and self-in- 
teresting inquiries. — However, upon a review of the whole 
scene, crowded with spectacles of morality, and trophies of 
death, I could not forbear smiting my breast, and fetching 
a sigh, and lamenting over the-noblest of all visible beings, 
laid prostrate under the feet of ** the pale horse, and his ri- 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 63 

der/'* — I couid not forbear repeating that pathetic exclam^ 
ation ; '' O 1 thou Adam, what hast thou done !'*t What 
desolation has thy disobedience wrought in the earth 1 — 
See the malignity, the ruinous malignity of sin 1 Sin has 
demolished so many stately structures of flesh ; sin has 
made such havoc^ among the most excellent ranks of 
God's lower creation ; and sin (that deadly bane of our 
nature) would have plunged our better part into the exe- 
crable horrors of the nethermost hell, had not our merciful 
Mediator interposed, and given himself for our ransom. — 
Therefore, what grateful acknowledgments does the 
whole world of penitent sinners owe ; what ardent returns 
of love will a whol' heaven of glorified believers pay, tp 
such a friend, beneiactor, and deliverer ! 

Musing upon these melancholy objects, a faithful re- 
membrancer suggested from within '' Must this sad 

" change succeed in me also ? Am I to draw my last gasp 
*' —to become a breathless corpse ; and be what 1 de- 
^'plore?! Is there a time approaching, when this body 
" shall be carried out upon the bier, and consigned to its 
*' clay-cold bed ? while some kind acquaintance, perhaps, 
" may drop one parting tear ; and cry, alas ! my brother I 
-' is the time approachii.g V Nothing is more certain. A 
decree, much surer than the laws of the Medes and Per- 
sians, has irrevocably determiijed the doom. 
Should one of th6se ghastly figures burst from his confine- 
ment, and start up, in frightful deformity, before me ; 
should the haggard skeleton lift a clattering hand, and 
point it full in my view ; should it open the stiffened jaws, 
and, with a hoarse and tremendous murmur, break this 
profound silence ; should it accost me, as Samuel's appa- 
rition addressed the trembling king, " The Lord shall de- 
liver thee also into the hsnds of death ; yet a little while^ 
and thou shait be with m-e."§ — The solemn warning, de* 

» Rev. vi. 8. t 2 Esd. vii. 47. 

^ 1 pass with melancholy state, 
Bv all these sciemn heaps of fate ; 
And think, as soft and sad I tread 
Above the venerable dead, 
*' Time was, like irre, ibey lifepossess'd ; 
" And time will be, when I shall rest '•— =P^r«e/. 

g 1 Sam. xxviii. 19. On this place, the Dutch translator of tHs 



64 MEDITATIONS 

liveredin so striking a manner, must strongly impress my 
imagination. A messenger in thunder would scarce sink 
deeper. — Yet there is abundantly greater reason to be a- 
larrned, by that express declaration of the Lord God Al- 
mighty, " Thou Shalt surely die." — Well then, since sen- 
tence is passed; since I am a condemned man, and know 
not when the dead-warrant may arrive ; let me die to sin, 
^nd die to the world ; before I die beneath the stroke of a 
righteous God. Let me employ the little uncertain inter- 
val of respite from execution, in preparing for a happier 
state and a better life ; that when the fatal moment comes, 
and I am commanded to shut my eyes upon all things 
here belov/, I may open them again, to see my Savior in 
the mansions above. 

Since this body, which is so fearfully and wonderfully 
made, must fall to pieces in the grave; since I must soon 
resign all my bodily powers to darkness, inactivity^and cor- 
ruption ; let it be my constant care to use them well, while 
I possess them — Let my hands be stretched forth to re- 
lieve the needy ; and always be more " ready to give, than 
to receive." — Let my knees bend, in deepest humiliationj 
before the throne of grace; while my eves are cast down 
to the earth, in penitential confusion ; or devoutly looking 
up to heaven, for pardoning mercy !— In every friendly in- 
terview, let the " law of kindness dwell on my lips;" or 
rather, if the seriousness of my acquaintance permits, let 
the gospel of peace flow from my tongue. O! that I 
might be enabled, in every public concourse, to lift up my 
voice like a trumpet; and pour abroad a more joyful sound, 
than its most melodious accents, in proclaiming the glad 
tidings of free salvation !— Be shut, my ears, resolutely 
shut, against the malevolent whispers of slander, and the 
contagious breath of filthy talking. But be swift to hear 

Meditations has added a note; to correct, very probably, what he 
supposes a mistake. On the same supposition, 1 presume, the com- 
pilers of our rubric ordered the last verse of EccUis.xlvi. to be omit- 
ted in the daily service of the chuTch. But that the sentiment, hin- 
ted above, is strictly true j that it was Samuel himself (not an infer- 
nal spirit, personating the prophet) who appeared to the female ne- 
cromancer~at Endor; appeared, not in compliance with any diaboi- 
ical incantation, but in pursuance of the divine commission ; this, I 
think, is fully proved in the Historical Account of the Life of Dz 
vid. Vol. I. chap. 23. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 65 

the instructions of Wisdom ; be all attention when your 
Redeemer speaks ; imbibe the precious truths, and con- 
vey thern caret\^Ily to the heart. — Carry me, my feet, to 
the temple of the Lord ; to the beds of the sick, and hous- 
es of the poor. — May ail my members, devoted entirely to 
my divine Master, be the willing instruments of promo- 
ting his glory ! 

Then, ye embalmers, you may spare your pains : these 
works of faith, and labors of love ; these shall be my spi- 
ces and perfumes. Enwrapped in these, I would lay me 
gently down, and sleep sweetly in the blessed Jesus I hop- 
ing, that God will '^ give commandment .concerning my 
bones !" and one day fetch them up from the dust, as sil- 
ver from the furnace, purified; " I say not seven times, but 
seventy times seven." 

Here my contemplation took wing, and, in an instant, 
alighted in the garden adjoining to mount Calvary. Hav- 
ing viewed the abode of my deceased fellow-creatures, nie- 
thought I longed to see the place where our Lord lay — 
And, O ! what a marvellous spectacle was once exhibited 
in this memorable sepulchre i — He, '* wh© clothes himself 
with light, as with a garment ; and walks upon the wings 
of the wind ;''* he was pleased to wear the habiliments of 

• The sacred scriptures, speaking of the Supreme Being say,— 
• * He walketh upon the waves of the sea ;" to denote his uncontrol- 
able power. Job ix. 8. — *' He walketh in the circuit of heaven :" to 
express the inrmnensity of his presence, Jobxxii. 14. — •♦ He walketh 
wpon the wings of the wind ;" to signify the anazing swiftness of 
his operations. Peal civ 3. — In which last phrase, there is, I think, 
an elegance and ennphasis, not taken notice of by our commentators, 
and yet unequalled in any writer — Not, he*flieth ; he runneth; but, 
he w alketh ; and that, on the very wings of the wind ; on the most 
impetuous of elements, roused into its utmost rage and sweeping a- 
long with inconceivable rapidity .--A tumult in nature, not to be descri- 
bed, is the composed and sedate work of . the Deity. A speed not 
to be measured, is (with ^-everence I use the expression, and to com- 
port with our low methods of conception) the solemn and majestic 
foot-pace of Jehovah. — How flat are the following Urns, even in the 
greatest roaster of Lyric J^ong, 

Ocyor cervis, et agente nimbos 
Ocyor Euro, 

when compared with this Inimitable stroke of divine poetry!—" He 
walketh upon the wings of the wind," 
F 2 



66 MEDITATIONS 

mortality, and dwelt among the prostrate dead. Who carj 
repeat the wondrous truth too oiten ? who can dwell upon 
the transporting theme too long / He, who sits enthroned 
in glory, and diffuses bliss ^among all the heavenly hosts ; 
he was once a pale and bloody corpse, and pressed this lit* 
tie spot. 

O Death I how great was thy triumph in that hour I 
Never did thy gloomy realms contain such a prisoner be- 
fore. — Prisoner, did I say ? No : he was more than con- 
queror. He arose, far more mightily than Samson, from 
a transient slumber ; broke down the gates, and demolish- 
ed the strong holds of those dark dominions.- — And this, 
O mortals I this is your only consolation and security. 
Jesus has trod the dreadful path, and smoothed it for your 
passage — ^Jesus, sleeping in the chambers of the tomb, has 
brightened the dismal mansion, and left an iviting odour 
in those beds of dust. The dying Jesus (never let the com- 
fortable truth depart from your minds ! the dying Jesus) is 
your sure protection, your unquestionable passport, through 
the territories of the grave. Believe in him, and they shall 
prove a " highway to Sion ;" shall transmit you safe to 
paradise. Believe in him, and you shall be no losers, but 
imspeakable gainers by your dissolution. For, hear what 
the oracle of heaven says upon this important point : — 
'^ Whoso believeth in me, shall never die."'* — What sub- 
lime and emphatical lan^^uage is this ! Thus much, at least, 
it must import : — " The nature of that last change shall be 
*' surprisingly altered for the better. It shall no longer be 
^' inflicted, as a punishment, but rather be vouchsafed, as 
*' a blessing. To such persons, it shall come attended 
^' with such a t^'ain of benefits, as will render it a kind of 
'' happy improprietv to call it dying. Dying! No ; it is 
"' then they truly begin to live. Their exit is the end of 
'' their frailty, and their entrance upon perfection. Their 
" last groan is the prelude to life and irr.niortaiity." v 

O ye timorous souls, that are terrified at the sound of 
the passing bell; that turn pale at the sight of an opeLcd 
grave; and can scarce behold a ccffin, or a skull, withrut 
a shuddering horror : ye that are in bondage to the grisly 
tyrant, and tren^ble at the shaking of his iron rod. cry 
mightily to the Father of your spirits, for faith in his 

^ # John Til 26» 



AMONG THE TGMB^. ^7 

dear Son. Faith will free you from your slavery.* Faith 
will embolden you to tread on (this fiercest of) serpents. f 
Old Simeon, clasping the child Jesus in the arms of his 
flesh, and the glorious Mediator in the arms of his faith, 
departs with tranquillity and peace. That bitter persecu- 
tor Saul, having won Christ, being found in Christ, longs 
to be dismissed from cumbrous clay, and kindles into rap- 
ture at the prospect of dissolution.:!: Methinks I see an- 
other of Immanuel's followers, trusting in his Savior^ 
leaning on his beloved, go down to the silent shades with 
composure and alacrity. § In this powerful name, an innu- 
merable company of sinful creatures have set up their ban- 
ners, and '' overcome through the blcod of the Lamb.^' 
Authorized by the Captain of thy salvation, thou also luay- 
est set thy feet upon the neek of this king of terrors. Fur- 
nished with this antidote, thou also mayest play around the 
hole of the asp, and pul thy undaunted hand on this cocka- 
trice-den.ll Thou mayest feel the viper fastening to thy 
mortal part, and feel no evil ;^ thou shalt one day shake it 
off by a joyful resurrection, and suffer no harm. 

Resurrection! that cheering word eases my mind of an 
anxious thought, and solves a most momentous question. 

* Dea^^h's terror is the mountain faith removes ; 

'Tis faith disarms destrucrion 

Believe, and look with triumph on the tomb. 

These, and some other quotations^ I am ptoud to borrow from the 
Night 'thoughts, especially from Night the Fourth. In which, en- 
ergy of language, sublimity of sentiment, and the most exquisite 
beauties of poetry, are the least perfections to be admired. Almost 
every line glows with devotion : rises into the most exalted appre- 
hensions of the adoiabie Redeemer ; and is animated wiih the most 
lively faith in his all-sufficieni mediation. Ihe author of this ex- 
cellent per form, a nee has the peculiar felicity of ennobling all the 
Strength of style, and every del c&cy of imagination with the grand 
and momentous tr-nhs ot Christianity. Thee thoughts give the 
highest entertainment to fancy, -and impart the noblest improvement 
to the mind. They not only leline the tas e, but prepare us for 
de;»th, and r^pen us for glory. I rever tr^ke up this admirable piece, 
but I am ready to cry out, — Tecum "civere c7n.n1, tecum obeam lib' 
ens; i.e. '* Inspire me with such aspiiit, and life shaU be delight- 
'• ful, nor death itself nnwelcome." 

t Luke X. 19. tPhil. i23 2 Tim iv 7 8, 

§ 2 Pel. i. 14. II Isa. xi, 8. H ActsxxvmoS; 



i)S MEDITATIONS 

I was going to ask, ** Wherefore do all these corpses lie^ 
♦' here, in this abject cGudition ? Is this their final state ? 
" Has death conquered, and will the tyrant hold captivity 
" capuve ? How long wilt thou forget them, O Lord 1 Fcr- 
*' ever r" — -No, saitii the voice trom heaven, the word of 
divine revelation, the right oiis are all '' piisoners of 
ho e."* There is an hour (an awful secret that, and 
known only to all-foreseeiig Wisdom) an appointed hour 
there is, when an act of grace wiii pass the great seal above, 
and give them an universal discharge, a general delivery 
from the abodes of corruption. — Then shall the Lord Je- 
sus descend from heaven, with the shout of the arch-angel, 
and the trump of God Destruction itself shall hear his 
call, and the obedient grave give up their dead. In a mo- 
ment, in the twinkling of an eye, they shake off the sleep 
of ten thousand years ; and spring forth, like the bounding 
roe, to " meet their Lord in the air." 

And, O ! with what cordial congratulations, what trans- 
porting endearments, do the soul and body, those affec- 
tionate companions, re-unite ! but how much greater de- 
monstrations of kindness, are they both received by their 
compassionate Redeemer ! The Ancient of days, who 
comes in the clouds of heaven, is their friend, their father, 
their bridegroom. He comes with irresistible powder and 
infinite glory ; but they have nothing to fear from his ma- 
jestic appearance Those tremendous solemnities, w hich 
spread desolation and astonishment through the universe, 
serve only to inflame their love, and heighten their hopes. 
The Judge, the awful Judge, amidst all his magnificence 
and splendor, vouchsafes to confess their names ; vouch- 
safes to commemorate their fidelity, before all the inhab- 
itants of the skies ; and the whole assembled world. 

Hark ! the thunders are hushed. See the lightnings 
cease their rage. The angelic armies stand in silent sus- 
pense. The whole race of Adam is wrapped up in pleas« 
ing, or anxious expectations. — And, now, that adorable 
person, whose favor is better than life ; whose acceptance 
is a crown of glory, lifts up the light of his countenance 
upon the righteous. He speaks ; and what ravishing words 
proceed from his gracious lips ! what ecstacies of delight 
they enkindle in the breasts of the faithful ! — " I accept you, 
^* O my people ! Ye are they that believe in my naIne^ 
# Zech, ix. 12, 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 69 

" Ye are they that rr.\ouncfr yourselves and are complete 
" in me. I see no spot or r.ieniish iu you ; for ye are 
*' washed in roy blood, and cio: lied with my righteousness. 
'' Renewed by my Spirit, yc nave glovitied me on ee.rth, 
" and have been faithful unto death. Come, then, ye ser- 
" vants of holiness, enter into the joy of your Lord. Come, 
'^ ye children of light, ye blessed of my F-^ther, receive 
" the kingdom that shall never be removed ; wear the 
" crown, which fadeth not aw ay ; and enjoy pleasures for 
'^ evermore !" 

Then it will be one of the smallest piivileges of the 
righteous, that they shall languish no more ; that sickness 
will never again shew her pale countenance in their dwel- 
lings.* Death itself will be '' swallowed up in victory.'* 
That fatal javelin, which has drank the blood of monarchs, 
and finds its way to ihe hearts of all the sons of Adam, 
shall be utterly broken. That enormous scythe, which 
has struck empires from their root, and swept ages and 
generations into oblivion, shall lie by in perpetual useless- 
ness. Sin also, which filled thy quiver, thou insatiate ar« 
cher ! Sin, which also strung thy arm with resistless vig- 
r}Y> which pointed all thv shafts with inevitable destruction 
— sin will then be done away. Whatever is frail, or de- 
praved, will be thrown off with our grave-clothes. All to 
come is perfect holiness and cosummate happiness; the 
term of whose continuance is Eternity. 

O Eternity ! Eternity ! How are our boldest, our stron- 
gest thoughts lost and overwhelmed in thee ? Who can 
set land- marks, to limit thy dimensions ; oMnd plummets, 
to fathom thy depths? Arithmeticians have figures, to 
compute all the progressions of time. Astronomers have 
instruments to calculate the distances of the planets. But 
what numbers can state, what lines can guage, the lengths 
and breadths of eternity ? '' It is higher than heaven , 
what canst thou do ? deeper than hell ; what canst thou 
knov/ ? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, 
broader than the sea."t 

* Isaiah, speaking of the new Jerusalem, mentions this as one of 
hs immunities : The inhabitarits thereof shall no more say, I am 
sick Another clause, in its royal charter, runs thus ; God shall 
rvvipeaway all tears from their e) es ; and there shall be no more 
deathj neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there^ be any more 
Dain. Isa. xxxiii. 24» Kev'xxi. 4- 

t Job xi. 8. 9, 



I 



^U MEDITATIONS 

Mysterious, mighty existence ! A4um notto be lessen- 
ed by the largest deductions ! an extent not to be contract- 
ed by all possible diminutions ! None can truly say, after 
the most prodigious wastes of ages ; *' So much of eterni- 
ty is gone." For when millions of centuries are elapsed, 
it is but just commencing ; and when millions more have 
run their am. pie round, it will be no nearer ending. Yeaj 
when ages, numerous as the bloom of spring, increased by 
the herbage of sum.mer, both augmented by the leaves of 
autumn, and ail multiplied by the drops of rain which 
di'own the winter ;— when these, and ten thousand times 
icn thousand more— more than can be represented by any 
similitude, or imagined by any conception ; — when all these 
are revolved and fii-ished, eternity, vast, boundless, amazing 
eternity ! will only be beginning i 

What a pleasing, yet a\viul thought is this ! Full of de- 
light, and full of dread. O ! may it alarm our fea: s, quick- 
en our hopes, and animate ail our endravors ! Since we 
are soon to launch into tliis endless and inconceivable state, 
let us give all diligenc e to secure our entnuice into bliss. 
' — Now let us give all diligence; because there is no al- 
teration in the scenes of Futurity. The Avheel ijcver turns ; 
all is steadfast and imnTioveable beyond the graVe. Wheth- 
er we are then seated on the throne, or stretched on the 
rack ; a seal will be set to our condition by the hand of 
everlasting mercy, or inflexible justice.—- T;:e ssints al- 
ways rt joice amidst the smiles oi heaven ; tndx harps are 
perpetua'V tuned : their triumphs admit of no interrup- 
tion. — The ruin of the wicked is irremediable. The fatal 
sentence; once passed, is ne^er to he repealed. No ^^ope 
of exchanging their doleful ./.LitTi*- .nR. But all things 
bear the same dismal aspect, for ever and ever. 

The wicked — My mind recoils* at il'C apprehension of 
their misery. It has studiously waved the fearful subject, 
and seems unwilling to pursue it even now, — But it is bet- 
ter to reflect upon it for a few minutes, than to endure it 
to eternal ages. Perhaps, the consideration of their ag- 
gravated misery may be profitably terrible ; may teach me 
more highly to prize the Savior, who " delivers from go- 
ing down into the bottomless pit ;" may drive me like the 

* Animus meminisse horret, luctuque refugit,— r/r^. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. /I 

avenger's swovd, to this only city of refuge for obnoxious 
sinners. 

The wicked seem to lie here, like malefactors, in a deep 
eind strong duiigeon; reserved against the day of trial. — 

Their departure was without peace. Clouds of horror 

sat louring upon their closing eye-lids, most saaly ibre- 
boding tl:ie "^ blackness of darkness for ever." When the 
last sickness seized their frame, and the iiievit^ble change 
advanced ; when they saw the fatal arrow fitting to the 
sti'ings, saw the deadly ai'cher aiming at their heart, and 
felt the envenomed shaft fastened in their vitals ;— Good 
God ! what fearfulness came upon them ! what horrible 
dread overwhelmed them ! How did they stand shudder- 
ing and aghast upon the tremendous precipice ? excessive- 
ly afraid to plunge into the abyss of eternity ^ yet utterly un- 
able to maintain their standing on the verge of life. 

O ! what pale reviews, and startling prospects, conspire 
to augment their sorrov^s! — They look backward, and be- 
hold ! a most melancholy scene! Sins unrepented of; 
mercy slighted : and the day of grace ending I — They 
look forward, and nothing presents itself, but the rightlous 
Judge, tbe dreadful tiibunal. and a most solemn reckoning. 
-—They roil around their affrighted eyes, on attending 
friends. If accomplices in debauchery : it sharpens their 
anguish, to consider this farther aggravation of their guilt, 
that they have not sinned alone, but drawn others into the 
snare. If religious acquaintance : it strikes a fresh gash 
into their hearts, to think of never peeing them any more, 
but only at an unapproachable distai:ice, separated by the 
impassable gulf. 

At last, perhaps, they begin to pray. Finding no other 
possible way of relief, they are cou strained to apply unto 
the Almighty. With trembling lips, and a fauitering 
tongue, they cry unto that Sovereign Being, '- who kills 
and makes alive ''—-But why have they deferred, so long 
deferred their addresses to God ? Why have they despis- 
ed all his counsels, and stood incorrigible under his inces- 
sant reproofs ? How often have they been forewarned of 
these terrors, and most importunately intreated to seek the 
Lord while he might be found ? — 1 wish they may obt?ia 
mercy at the eleventh, at the Inst hour. I wish they niav 
be snatched from the ia^^ s. 'the opt^ned, the gaping, the 
almost closing jaws of damnation. But, alas t who can tell. 



72 MEDITATIONS 

■whether affronted Majesty will lend an ear to their com- 
plaint; whether the Holy One will work a miracle of grace 
in behalf of such transgressors I He may, for aught any 
mortal knows, " laugh at their calamity, and mock when 
their fear Cometh." 

Thus they lie groaning out the poor remains of life ; 
their limbs bathed in sweat ; their heart stmagling with 
convulsive throes ; pains insupportable throbbing in every 
pulse ; and innumerable darts of agony transfixing their 
conscience. 

In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
Raves round the w^alls of her clay tenement ; 
Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help ; 
Bat shrieks in vain! How wishfully she looEs 
On all she's leaving, now no longer her*s ! 
A little longer, yet a little longer, 
Oh I might she stay to wash away her crimes. 
And fit her for her passage ! Mournful sight ! 
Her very eyes weep blood : and eveiy groan 
Slie heaves, is big with horror : But the foe, 
Like a staunch murd'rer, steady to his purpose, 
Pursues her close through ev'ry lane of life, 
Nor misses once the track ; but presses on ; 
Till, forced at last to the tremendous verge, 
At once she sinks.—* 

If this be the end of the ungodly— "My soul, come not 
thou into their secret ? unto their assembly, mine honor, 
be not thou united !— How awfully accomplished is that 
prediction of inspired wisdom ! Sin, though seemingly 
sweet in the commission, yet, ^' at the last, it biteth like a 
serpent, and stingeth like an adder." Fly therefore from 
the tents, O ! fly from the ways of such wretched men. 

Happy dissolution ! were this the period of their woes. 
But, alas ! all these tribulations are only " the beginning 
of sorrows ;" a small drop only from that ^' cup of tremb« 
ling,*' which is mingled for their future portion— No soon- 
er has the last pang dislodged their reluctant souls, but 
they are hurried into the presence of an injured angiy 
God ; not under the conducting care of beneficent angels, 
but exposed to the insults of accursed spirits, who lately 
* See » valwible poem, entitled The Grave. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 75 

tempted them, now upbraid them, and will forever tonnent 
them. Who can imagine their confusion and distress, 
when they stand guilty and inexcusable before their incen- 
sed Creator ? They are received with frowns. The God 
that made them, has no '' mercy on them."* The Prince 
of Peace rejects them with abhorence. He consigns them 
over to the chains of darkness, and receptacles of despair ;. 
against the severer doom, and more public infamy, of the 
great day. Then all the vials of wrath will be emptied up- 
pon these wretched creatures. The law they have viola- 
ted, and the gospel they have slighted ; the power they 
have defied, and the goodness they have abused ; will all 
get themselves honor in their exemplary destruction. 
Then God, the God to whom vengeance belongeth, will 
draw the arrow to the very head, and set them as the fnark 
of inexorable displeasure. 

Resurrection will be no privilege to them ; but immor- 
tality itself, their everlasting curse. — Would they not bless 
the grave, *' that land where all things are forgotten ;" and 
'wish to lie eternally hid, in its deepest gloom ? But the 
dust refuses to conceal their persons, or to draw a veil over 
their practices. They also must awake, must appear at 
. the bar, and meet the Judge. A Judge, before whom, 
I " the pillars of heaven tremble, and the earth melts away." 
* A Judge, once Ion i};- suffering, and very compassionate z 
but now unalterably determined to teach stubborn offen- 
i ders — what it is to provoke the Omnipotent Godhead ; 
I what it is to trample on the blood of his Son, and offer des- 
pite to all the gracious overtures of his Spirit. 

O ! the perplexity ! the distraction ! that m«fst seize the 
impenitent rebels, when they are summoned to the great 
tribunal ! — What will they do in this day of severe visita- 
tion ? this day of final decision ? — -Where? how? whence, 
can they find help ? — To which of the saints will they turn? 
whither betake themselves for shelter or for succor ? A- 
las ! it is all in vain ; it is all too late.^ — Friends and ac- 
quaintance know them no more. Men and angels aban- 
don them to their approaching doom. Even the Mediator, 
the Mediator himself, deserts them in this dreadful hour. 
To fly, will be impracticable ; to justify themselves, still 
more impossible ; and now, to make any supplications, ut- 
terly unavailable. 

*Isa.x»vii, 11. 
G 



74i MEBITATIONS 

Behold, the books are opened. The secrets of all hearts 
are disclosed. Ti.e hidden things of darkness are brought 
to light. How empty, how ineffectual now, are all those 
refined artifices, with which hypocrites imposed upon their 
fellow- creatures, and preserved a character in the sight of 
men ! — The jealous God, who has been about their path, 
and about their bed, and espied out all their ways, sets be- 
fore them the things they have done. They cannot an- 
swer him one in a thousand, nor stand in the awful judg- 
ment. " The heavens reveal their iniquities, and the earth 
rises up against them."* They are speechless with guilt, 
and stigmatised with infamy, before all the armies of the 
sky, and all the nations of the redeemed. What a favor 
"Would they esteem it, to hide their ashamed heads in the 
bottom of the ocean, or even to,, be buried beneath the ru- 
ins of the tottering world ! 

If the contempt thus poured upon them be thus insup- 
portable, how will their hearts endure, when the sword of 
infinite indignation is unsheathed, and fiercely waved a- 
round their defenceless heads, or pointed directly at their 
naked breasts ? How must the wretches scream with a- 
mazement, and rend the very heavens with their cries, 
when the right-aiming thunderbolts go abroad ! go abroati, 
■with a dread commission, to drive thenj from the kingdoms 
of glory ; and plunge them — not into the sorrows of a mo- 
ment, or the tortures of an hour—- but into all the restless 
agonies, of unquenchable fire, and everlasting despair.f 

Misery of miseries ! too shocking for reflection to dwell 
upon. But, if so dismal to foresee, and that at a distance, 
together with some comfortable expectation of escaping it 
— O! how bitter, inconceivably bitter to bear, without any 
intermission, or any mitigation, through hopeless and eter- 
nal ages ! 

Who has any bowels of pity ? who has any sentiments 
of compassion ? who has any tender concern for his fellow- 
creatures ? who ?— In God*s name, and for Christ's sake, 

* Job XX 27. 

t Regious of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
And rest can never dwell ; hope never conr.es, 
That comes to all ; But tortute w ithout end 
Still urges, and afieiy deluge, fled 
With ever.buirning sulphur unconsum'd|— ilif7f. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 75 

let him shew it, by warning every man to, and beseeching 
every man, to seek the Lord while he may be found ; to 
throw down the arms of rebellion, before the act of indem- 
nity expires ; submissively to adore the Lamb, while he 
holds out tke golden sceptre.-— Here let us act the friend- 
ly part to mankind ; here let the whole force of our be- 
nevolence exert itself; in exhorting relations, acquaint- 
ance, neighbors, whomsoever we may probably influence, 
to take the wings of faith unfeigned, of repentance unde- 
layed, and flee away from this wrath to come. 

Upon the whole, what stupendous discoveries are these ! 
Lay them up in a faithfnl remembrance^ O my soul ! Re-i 
collect them with the most serious attention, when thou li- 
est down, and when thou risest up. When thou walkest, 
receive them for thy companions ; when thou talkest, lis- 
ten to them as thy prompters ; and whatever thou doest, 
consult them as thy directors. — Influenced by these consid- 
erations, thy views will greaten, thy afl'ections be exalted, 
and thou thyself raised above the tantalizing power of per- 
ishing things. Duly mindful of these, it will be the sura 
of thy desires, and the scope of thy endeavors, to gain the 
approbation of that Supreme Being, who will then fill the 
throne, and pronounce the decisive sentence. Thou wilt 
see nothing worth a wish,* in comparison of having his will 
for thy rule, his glory for thy aim, and his Holy Spirit for 
thy ever actuating principle. 

Wonder, O man ! be lost in admiration, at those prodi- 
gious events, which are coming upon the universe ! E- 
vents, the greatness of which nothing finite can measure. 
Such as will cause whatever is considerable or momentous 
in the annals of all generations, to sink into littleness and 
nothing. Events (Jesus, prepare us for the approach ! 
defend us when they take place !) big with the everlasting 
fetes of all the living, and all the dead. 

I must see the graves cleaving, the sea teeming, and 
swarms unsuspected, crouds unnumbered; yea, multi- 
tudes of thronging nations, rising from both. 

I must see the world in flames : must stand at the dis- 
solution of all terrestrial things, and be an attendant on th^ 

* Great day of dread, decision, and depair ! 
At thought of thee, each sublunary wish 
Lets go its eager grasp^ and quits the world. 

Night Tooiight§, ^ 



76 MEDITATIONS 

burial of nature. I must see the vast expanse of the sky, 
wrapt up like a scroll ; and the incarnate God, issuing 
forth from light inaccessible^ with ten thousand times ten 
thousand angels, to judge both men and devils. I must 
see the curtain of time drop ; see all eternity disclosed to 
view ; and enter upon a state of being, that will never, 
never, have an end. '^ 

And ought I not (let the vainest imagination determine ; 
ought I not) to try the sincerity of my faith, and take heed 
to my ways? Is there an inquiry; is there a care; of great- 
er, of equal, of comparable importance ? — Is not this an in- 
Snitely pressing call, to see that my loins are girded, a- 
bout, my lamp trimmed, and myself dressed for the bride- 
groom's appearance ? That, washed in the fountain open- 
ed in my Savior's side, and clad with the marriage -garment 
wove by his obedience, I may be found in peace, unblame- 
able, and unreprovable. — Otherwise, how shall I stand with 
boldness, when the stars of heaven fall from their orbs ? 
How shall I come forth erect and courageous, m hen the 
earth itself reels to and fro like \ drunkard i* Hew shall 
I look up with joy, and see ray salvation drawing nigh, 
when the hearts of millions and millions fail for fear ? 

Now, Madam, lest my Meditations set in a cloud, and 
leave any unpieasing gloom upon your mind, let me once 
more turn to the brightening prospects of the righteous. 
A view of them^ and their delightful expectations, may 
serve to exhilarate the thoughts, which have been musing 
upon melancholy subjects, and hovering about the edges 
of infernal darkness : Just as a spacious field, arrayed in 
cheerful green, relieves and re-invigorates the eye, which 
has fatigued itself by poring upon some minute, or gazing 
upon some glaring object. 

The righteous seem to lie by, in the bosom of the earth, 
as a wary pilot in some well-sheltered creek, till all the 
storms which infest this lower world, are blown over. — 
Here they enjcy safe anchorage ; are in no danger of foun- 
dering annidst the waves of prevailing iniquity, or of being 
shipwrecked on the rocks of any powerful temptation. 
But, erelong, we shall behold them hoisting their flag of 
hope ! riding before ^ sweet gale of atoning merit, and re- 
deeming love ; till they nrake, v»dth all the sails of an as- 
sured faith, the blessed port of eternal life, 
* Jsa, XX iv. ^Q. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 77 

Then may the honored friend, to whom I am writing, 
rich in good works, rich in heavenly tempers, but inex- 
pressibly richer in her Savior's righteousness — O ! may- 
she enter the harbor, like a gallant stately vessel, returned 
successful and victorious from some grand expedition, 
with acclamations, honor, and joy I while my little bark, 
attendant on the solemnity, and a partaker of the triumph, 
glides humbly after ; and both rest together in the haven 
— the wishM-for, blissful haven, of perfect security, and 
eyerlasting repose. 



6 



REFLECTIONS 



ON A 



FLOWER-GARDEN. 



IN A LETTER TO A LADY. 



I look upon tlie pleasure which we take in a garden, as one of the 
most innocent delights in human life. A garden was ihe habit- 
ation of our first parents before the fall. It is naturally apt to fill 
the mind with calmness and tranquility ^ and to lay all its turbu» 
lent passions at rest. It gives us a great insight into the contri= 
vance and wisdom oi Providence, and suggest innumerable sub- 
jects of meditation, Specyol VII. No. 477, 



MADAM, 

SOME time ago, tny meditations took a turn among 
the tombs. They visited the awful and melancholy man- 
sions of the dead ;* and you was pleased to favor them with 
your attention.— May I not beg the honor of your company, 
in a more inviting and delightful excursion ! In a beauti- 
ful Flower Garden, where I lately walked, and at once re- 

.§aled the sense, and indulged the fancy. 

Hi,' 

* " Discourses on the vanity of the creature, which represent the 
** barrenness of every thmg in this world, arid its incapacirj of pro- 
*• ducingany solid or substantial happiness are useful '1 hose spec- 
^* ulations also, which shew the bvght side of things ard lay forth 
•» those innocent entertainments, which are ro be met with aw»ong 
'* the sever?! objects that encompass u.^ are no les*^ beneficial'*— 
Specf. vol. V No- 393 Uptn 'be plan of these ob&ervations, the 
preceding and fgllowing Eefleciions aie formed. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 7*9 

It was early in a summer morning — when the air was 
cool, the earth moist ; the whole face of the creation fresh 
and gay. The noisy world was scarce awake. Business 
had not quite shorn off his sound sleep, and riot liad but 
just reclined bis heavy head. All was serene; all was 
still ; every thing tended to inspire tranquillity of mind^ 
and invite to serious thought. 

Only the wakeful lark had left her nest, and was mount- 
ing on high to salute the opening day. Elevated in air, 
she seemed to call the laborious husbandman to his toil, 
and all her fellow-songsters to their notes. Earliest of 
birds, said I, companion of the dawn, may I always rise at 
thy voice ! rise to offer the matin-song, and adore that Be- 
ing, " who maketh the out-goings of the morning and eve- 
ning to rejoice.^' 

How charming to rove abroad, at this sweet hour of 
prime ! to enjoy the calm of nature, to tread the dewy 
lawns, and taste the unnfled freshness of the air ! 

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
With charm of earliest birds.* 

What a pleasure do the sons of sloth lose ? Little, ah ! lit« 
tie is the sluggard sensible, how delicious an entertainment 
he foregoes, for the poorest of all animal gratifications.! 

The greyness of the davyn decays gradually. Abun- 
dance of ruddy streaks tinge the fleeces of the firmament; 
'till at length, the dappled aspect of the east is lost, in one 
ardent and boundless blush. — Is it the surmise of imagina- 
tion, or do the skies really redden with shame, to see so 

* Milt. Par. Lost, b. iv.lin.641. 

t See ! how revelation and reason, the scriptures and the classics^ 
unanimously exhorr to this nnost beneficial practice. They boih in- 
vite us to early rising by the most engaguig motives, and most al- 
luring represen.aiions. 

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field ; let us lodge in 
the villages Let us get up early to the vineyards ; let us ^ ee if the 
vineflouvish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegran- 
ates bud forth. Cant, yii 1 1 12. 

Luciferi primo cum ^idere, frigidarura 

Carpamus ; dum maae uovuiik dum gramania can- nt, 

Et ros in tenera pecoii graiissimuslierba est,— Fir. Geor, III, 



so MEDITATIONS 

many supinely stretched on their df osy pillows ? — Shall 
man be lost in luxurious ease ? shall m.an waste these pre- 
cious hours in idle slumbers ? while the vigorous sun is 
up, and going his Maker's errand ? while all the feathered 
choir are hymning their Creator, and paying their homage 
in harmony / — No. Let him heighten the melody of the 
tuneful tribes; by adding the rational strains of devotion. 
Lei him improve the fragrant oblations of liature^ by vidng- 
ling with the rising odours, the more refined breath of 
praise. 

It is natural for man to look upward ;* to throw his first 
glance upon the objects that are above him. 

Straight toward heav'n my wond'ring eyes I turn'd, 
And gaz'd awhile the ample sky.f 

Prodigious theatre ! where lightnings dart their fire, 
and thunders utter their voice ; where tempests spend 
their rage, and worlds unnumbered roll at large ! — O the 
greatness of that mighty hand, which meteth out this ama- 
zing circumference with a span ! O the immensity of that 
"wonderful being, before whom this unmeasurable extent is 
no more than a point! — And O (thou pleasing thought!) 
the unsearchable riches of that mercy, which is greater 
than the heavens \\ is more enlarged and extensive in its 
gracious exercise, than these illimitable ti'acts of air, and 
sea, and fi. mamer.t ! which pardons crimes of the most e- 
normous size, and the most horrid aggravations ; pardons 
them in consideration of the Redeemer's atonement, with 
perfect freeness, and the utmost readiness ! more readily, 
if it were possible, than this all-surrounding expanse ad- 
mits, within its circuit, a ridge of mountains, or even a 
grain of sand. 

Come hither, then, ye awakened, trembling sinners. 
Come, weary and heavy laden with a sense of your iniqui- 
ties.U Condemn yourselves. Renounce all alliance. om 

* Os homini sublime dedit, coelumque tueri 
Jussit, et e.ectos ad sidera tollere vultus. — Ovid. 

f Mill Par Lost, h. viii. lin» 257- \ Psai. cviii* 4, 

II 1 be \iv.e- which follow, are admirably descriptive of the spirit 
and ptvicuce hbitqd above. In them desire pants 5 prayer w restks ; 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 



8i 



any thing of your own. Let your " trust be in the tender 
mercy of God, for ever and ever." 

" In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun."* — Be- 
hold him" coming forth fi'om the chambers of the east. 
See ! the clouds, like floating curtains, are thrown back 
at his approach. With what refulgent majesty does he 
walk abroad! How transcendantly bright is his counte- 
nance, shedding day, and inexhaustible light, through the 
universe ! Is there a scene, though finished by the most 
elaborate and costly refinements of art, "comparable to 
'' these illustrious solemnities of opening sunshhie ? Before 
•' these, all the studied pageantry of the theatre, the glit- 
" tering oeconomy of an assembly, or even the heightened 
'' ornaments of a royal palace, hide their diminished heads, 
'^ and skrinks into nothing," — I have read of a person so 
struck with the splendors of this noble luminary, that he 
imagined himself made on purpose to contemplate its glo- 
ries. O ! that Christians would adopt his persuasion, and 
transfer it to the Sun of righteousness! Thus applied, it 
would cease to be a chimerical notion, and bcionie a most 
important truth. For sure I am, it is the su premie happi- 
ness of the eternal state, aoci therefore may well be the 
ruling concern of this present life, '' to know the only true 
God, and Jesus Christ, wiiom he hath sent." — IS or do I 

vr.d faith, a^^ it were grasps the pjize. I take leave to trarr-plant 
them into this place; and I could wish them a bet'^er, a more ccn. 
spicuous situation than either their new or their r.anve sod. Their 
native soil is no other than the lamentaricns of a sinner written by 
Mr. Sternhold. Notwithstanding; the tirpronnising genins of the 
perfcrnia^ce I think we may challenge rhe greatest mas:ei to pro- 
duce any thing more splriiedand importunate ; more full cf nature^ 
or more flushed with life. 

Mercy, good Lord, mercy I crave ; 

This is the total sum ; 
For mercy, Lord, is all my suit; 

Lord let thy mercy come. 

The short sentence — not a single copulative — the frequent repetition 
of the divine name — the aln\ost incessant reiteration of the blessing*, 
so passionately desired, and inexpressibly needed — this is the genu- 
ine language of ardor ; these are beauties obvious to every eye ; and 
cannot fail, either to please the judicious iaste, or to edify the gra- 
Gions heart. 

* Psal. xix. 4. 



B2 MEDITATIONS 

Stand alone in this opinion. The very best judge of what- 
ever is valuable in science, or perfective of our nature; a 
judge, who formed his taste on the maxims of -paradise, 
and received the finishings oi his education ^^he third 
heavens ; this judge determines to " know nothing but Je- 
sus Christ, and him crucified." He possessed, in his own 
person, the finest, the most admired accomplishment*; 
yet pronounces them no better than dung, in comparison 
of the supereminent excellency of this saving knowledge.^ 

Methinks, I discern a thousand admirable properties in 
the sun. It is, certainly? the best material emblem of the 
Creator. There is more of God in its lustre, energy and 
usefulness, than in any other visible being. To worship it 
as a deity, was the least inexcusable of all the Heathen 
idolatiies. One scarce can wonder, that fallen reason 
should mistake so fair a copy for the adorable original. 
No comparison, in the whole book of sacred wisdom, 
pleases me more, than that which resembles the blessed 
Jesus, to yonder regent of the day ;t who now advances^ 
on his azure road, to scatter light, and dispense gladness 
through the nations. 

What "were all the realms of the world, but a dun^reon 
of darknessv without the beams of the sun ? All their fine 
scenes, hid from our view, lost in obscurity. — In vain, we 
roll around our eyes, in the midnight £i:lcora. In vain, we 
strive to behold the features of an i::^ hie nature. Turn 
Vvhither we will, no form of comeliness appears. All 
seems a dreary waste ; an undistinguished chaos ; till the 
returning hours have unbarred the gates of light, and let 
forth the morn. — Then^ what a prospect opens ! The heav- 
ens are paved with azure, and strev/ed \vith roses. A va- 
riety of the liveliest verdures array the plains. The floivers 
put on aglow of the richest colours. The whole crea- 
tion stands forth, dressed in all the charms of beauty. 
The ravished eye looks round and wonders. 

And what had been the condition of cur intellectual na- 
ture, without the great Redeemer, and his divine revela- 
tion ? — Alas I what absurd and unworthy apprehensions 
did the Pagan sages form of God ! What idle dreams, 

* Phil iii.r, a. 

t '*Unto >ou that fear my name, shall the Sun of righteousness 
arise, with healing in his wings," Mai. iv. 2, 



\ 



AMONG THE TOMBS. -83 

w hat childish cov.j ectuies, were their doctrines, of a future 
state. How did the bulk, even of ihat f^wored nation, the 
Jews, weary themselves m their vanity, to obtain peace 
and reconciliation, with their offended Jehova'ii I till Jesus 
ai'ose upon our benighted nriinds, and brought life and im- 
mortality to light ; till he arose, tu enlighten the wretched 
Gentiles, and to be the giory of his people Israel. 

Now" we no longer cry out, with a i estless impatience, 
Where is God my maker ? for w^e are allowed to contem- 
plate the brightness of his glory, and the express image of 
his person, in the face of Jesus Christ — Now we no lon- 
ger enquire, with an unsatisfied solicitude, ** Which is the 
way to bliss .'*' because Jesus has marked the path, by his 
shining example ; and left us an uneriing clue, in his ho- 
ly word. — Now we have no reason to proceed with mis- 
giving heeits in our journey to eternity, or to ask anxious- 
ly, as we go, '• Who will roll away the stone, and open the 
" everlasting doors ? Who will remove the flaming sword, 
'* and give us admission into the delights of Paradise /" 
For it is done, all done, by the Captain of our salvation. 
Sin he has expiated by the unblemished sacrifice of him- 
self. The law he has fulfilled, by his pevfect obedience. 
The sinner he transforms, by his sanctitying Spirit. — In a 
word, he hath both presented us with a clear discovery of 
good things to come, and administered to us an abundant 
entrance into the final enjoyment of them. 

Whenever, therefore, we bless God for the circling sea- 
sons, and revolving day, let us adore, thankfully adoie him, 
for the more precious appearance of the Son oiRi^^hteous- 
ness, and his glorious gospel. Without whicn, v»e should 
have been groping, even to this hour, in spiritui darkness, 
and the shadow of death. Without ^vhich. we must have 
wandered in a maze of inextricable uncertai-uies. ind have 
'* stumbled upon the dark mountains" of error, tiu we fell 
into the bottomless pit of perdition. 

Without that grand enlivening principle, what were this 
earth, but a lifeless mass ! a rude lump of inactive mstter / . 
The trees could never break forth into lee.ves, nor the plants, 
spring up into flowers, we should no more behold the 
meadows mantled over with green, nor the valleys stand- 
ing thick with %Yith corn. Or, to speak in the beautiful 
language of a prophet, " No longer would the fi,:-tree 
blossom, nor fruit be in the vine : The labor of the oiiyes 



84 MEDITATIONS 

would fail, and the fields could yield no meat : The flocks 
must be cut off fronn the fold, and there would be no herd 
in the stalls."* — The sun darts its beams among all the 
vegetable tribes, and paints the spring, and enriches the 
autumn. This pierces to th^ roots of the vineyard and the 
orchard, and sets afloat those fermenting juices, which at 
length burst into floods of w^ine, or bend the boughs with 
a meiiow-ioad. — Nor are its favors conflned to the upper 
regions ; but distributed into the deepest recesses of cre- 
ation. It penetrates the beds of metal, and finds its way 
to the place of the sapphires. It tinctures the seeds of 
gold, that are ripening into ore ; and throws a brilliancy 
into the water of the diamond, that is hardening on its 
rock. — In short, the beneficial agency of this magnificent 
luminary is inexpressible. It beautifies, and impregnates, 
universal nature. " There is nothing hid from the heat 
thereof." 

Just in the same manner, were the rational world " dead 
in trespasses and sins,'* without the reviving energy of 
Jesus Christ. He is "the resurrection and the life ;" the 
overflowing fountain of the one, and the ail pov/erful cause 
of the other. The second Adam is a quickening Spirit, 
and all his saints live thrdugh him. He shines upon their 
afl'ections ; and they slaoot forth into heavenly graces, and 
abound in the fruits of righteousness. Faith unfei.^'ned, 
and love undissembled, those noblest produ tlons of the 
renewed nature, and the effects of|)liis operation on the 
mind. Not so much as one divine dispositi' >n could spread 
itself, not one Christian habit unfold and flourish, without 
the kindly influencers of his grace. 

As there is no fruitfulness, so likewise no cheerfulness, 
without the sun.f — When that auspirbus sovereign of the 
day diffuses the mildness of his m-oning -^p'endor, he cre- 
ates an universal festival. Millions of glittering insects 
awake into existence, and bask in his rays. The birds st.rt 
from their slumbers, and pour thevi delighted souls in harmo- 

# Hab. ill. 17. 
k 

. t '* The sun, which is as the great soul of the universe, and pro- 
^* duces all the necessaries of life, has a particular i>.flnence in cheer* 
** ing the mind of nian^and making the heart glad. " Sfect, vol. w 
No. 3B7. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. S& 

ny. The flock with bleating accents, hail the welcome bles- 
sings. The herds, in lowing murmurs, express their hoars- 
er acclamations. The vallies ring witli rural music ; the 
hills echo back the artless strains. All that is vocal, joins in 
the general choir ; all that has breath, exults in the cheer- 
ing influence.— Whereas, was that radiant orb extinguish- 
ed, a tremendous gloom would ensue, and horror insup- 
portable. Nay, let it only be eclipsed for a lew minutes, 
and ail nature assumes an air of sadness. The heavens 
are wrapt in sables, and put on a kind of mourning. The 
most sprightly animals hang down their dejected heads. 
The soiigsters of the grove are struck dumb. Howling 
beasts roam abroad for prey, ominous birds come foith and 
screech ; the heart of man fails, or a sudden pang seizes 
the foreboding mind. — So when Christ hides away his 
faec, when faith loses sight of that consolation of Israel, 
how gloomy are the prospects of the soul 1 Our God seems 
to be a consuming fire, and our sins cry aloud for ven- 
geance. The thoughts bleed inwardly ; the Christian 
walks heavily. All without is irksome ; ail within is dis- 
consolate. Lift up then, most gracious Jesus, thou nobler 
day-spring fram on high ! O lift up the light of thy coun- 
tenance upon thy people ! reveal the fulness of thy medi- 
atorial sufliciency ; make clear our title, to this great sal- 
vation, and thereby impart 

What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, 
The soul's calm sun-shine, and the heart-felt joy.* 

In one instance more, let me pursue the similitude. 
The sun, 1 observe, pours his lustre all around, to every 
distance, and in every direction. Profusely liberal of his 
gifts, he illuminates and cheei's all the ends of the earth, 
and the whole compass of the skies. Tne east reddens with 
his rising radiance, and the western hills are gilded with 
his streaming^ splendors. The chilly regions of the north 
are cherished by his genial warmth while the southf-m 
ti-acts glow with his fire. — Thus are the influences of tke 
Sun of righteousness diff*usive and unconfined. The mer- 
its of his precious death extended to the first, and will be 
propagated to the last ages of mankind. — May they 5 ere 
long, visit the remotest climates, and darkest corners of 

* Pope's Ethic. Ep. 
H 



86 REFLECTIONS 

theearthl Command thy gospel, blessed Jesus, thy everlast- 
ing- gospel to take the wings of the moviung, and travel with 
yonder sun. Let it fly upon strong pinions among every 
people, nation, and language ; that where the heat scorch- 
es, and the cold freezes, thou mayest be known, confessed, 
and adored 1 that strangers to thy name, and enemies to 
thy doctrine, may be enlightened with the knowiedge, and 
won to the love of thy truth ! O may that best of ^ras 
come 1 that wished-for period advance, v/hen *^ all the ends 
of the world shall remember themselves, and be turned 
unto the Lord ; and all the kindreds of the nations worship 
tefore him I"* 

From the heavens we retire to the earth. — Here the 
drops of dew, like so many liquid chrystals,t sparkle upon 
the eye. How brilliant and unsullied is their lustre ! How 
little inferior to the proud stone which irradiates a mon- 
ach's crown 1 They want nothing but solidity and perma- 
nency, to equal them svith the finest treasure^ of the jew- 
eller's cask n — But here, indeed, they are greatly deficient, 
short-lived ornaments* possessed of httle more than a mo- 
mentary radiance. The sun, that lights them up, will 
5oon melt them into air, or exhale them into vapors. 
Within an hour, we may '* look for their place, and they 
shall be aw^av:" — O I may every good resolution of mine, 
and of ray flocks; may our united breathings after God, 
not be like tiipse iransieiU decorations of the morning, but 
like the substarti"] glorv ot the growing day 1 The one 
shines \aore an;i more with augmented splendors; while 
the other, having glittered gaily for a few moments, disap- ' 
pear and are lost. 

How sensibly has this dew refreshed the vegetab'e king- 
doms 1 The fervent heat of yesterday^s sun had almost 
parched the face, and exhausted the sweets of nature. 
But what a sovereiQ;n vesto^'ative are these cooling distill- 
ations of the night ! bo^-v they gladden and invigorate the 
languishing herl)S ! Sprinkled with these reviving drops, 
their verdure deepens ; their bloom is new flushed ; their 
fragrance, faint or intermitted, becomes potent and copi- 
ous. — Thus does the ever blessed Spirit revive the droop- 
ing troubled conscience of a smner. When that Ahmgh- 
ty Comforter sheds his sweet influence on the soul? dis- 

*P5al xxii. 27. 
f Now morn, her rosy steps in tb' ei^^tern ch'me 
Advancing, sQw'd the earth with orient pearl*— 3/;/^:^- 



C2i A FLOWER-GARDEN. 87; 

plays the all-sufficient sacrifice of a divine Redeemer, and 
" witnesses with our spn^it," that we are interested in the 
Savior, and by his means, are children of God ; then, what 
a pleasing change ensues ! Former anxieties are remem- 
bered no more. Every uneasy apprehension vanishes* 
Soothing hopes, and delightful expectations, succeed. The 
countenance drops its dejected mien ; the eyes brighten 
with a lively cheerfulness ; while the lips express the 
heart-felt satisfaction, in the language of thanksgiving, 
and the voice of melody. — In this sense, merciful God, be 
as the dew unto Israel 1 '' Pour upon them the continual 
dew of thy blessing." And O I let not my fleece be dry, 
while heavenly benediction descends upon ali around. 

Who can number these pearly drops ? They hang on 
every hedge, they twinkle from every spray, and adoni the 
whole herbage of the field. Not a blade of grass, nor a 
single leaf, but wears the watery pendants. So vast is the 
profusion, that it baffles the arithmetician's art — Here let 
the benevolent mind contemplate and admire that emphat- 
ical scripture, which, from this elegant similitude, de- 
scribes the increase of the Messiah's kingdom. The roy- 
al prophet, speaking of Christ, and foretelling the success 
of his religion, has this remarkable expression ; *' The 
dew of thy birth is of the womb of the morning,"* (i. e.) 
Ao the momiiig is the mother of dews ; produces them, as 
it were, from a proHfic womb ; and scatters them, with 
the most lavished abundance, over all the surface of the 
earth ; so shall thy seed be, O thou everlasting Father, I 
by the preaching of thy word, shall such an innumerable 
race of regenerate children be born unto thee, and prove 
an ornament and a blessing to all ages. Millions; millions 

* Psal. ex 5. The most exact translation of this diiBcult pas- 
sage is, 1 appreliend, as follows: Prse rore uteri aurorx, tibi est ros 
juventutis vel prolis tUce : The dew of thy birth is larger, more cop- 
ious, than the dew which proceeds from the womb of the morning, 
— 1 cannot acquiesce in the new version ; because that disjoins '^ the 
womb of the morning " from ** the dew of thy birth." Whereas^ 
the) seem to have a clear affinity, and a close connection. The 
womb of the morning is, with the utmost pertinency, applied to the 
conception and production of dews; agreeably to a delicate line, in 
that great master of just description, and lively painting, Mr» 
Thomson j 

The meek-eyed morn appears, mother of dew s,^[_Summer, 

We meet with a fine e^epression in the book of Job, which may 



SB REFLECTIONS 

of willing converts, from every nation under heaven, shall 
croud into thy family, and replenish thy church till they be- 
come like the stars of the sky, or the sands of the sea for 
multitude; or even as numberless as these fine spangles, 
which now cover the face of nature.— Behold then, ye ob- 
serve to confirm this remark ; may illu^^trate the propriety of the 
phrase used in this connection ; *' Hath the lain a father, or who 
hath begotten the drops of dew ?" It seems, the oriental writers de- 
lighted to represent the dew as a kind of birth, as the offspring of 
the morning. And if so, surely there could be no image in. the 
whole compass of the universe, better adapted to the Psalmist's pur- 
pose, or more strongly significant of those muUitudes of proselytes 
which weie '< born, not of bloody nor of the will of man. but of 
God ;'* by the powerful energy of his word and Spirit.— UpOH this 
supposition, the whole verse describes 



The willing subjection, "^ ^^ Christ's 

The gracious accomplishments, * 
And the vast number, 



' C cc 



converts. 



q-d, -' In the day of thy power," when thy glorious gospel shall be 
published in the world and accompanied with marvellous efficacy, 
—in that memorable period, thy people, discontinmng the former 
oblations commanded under the Mosaic law, shall devote therrsselves, 
as so many living sacrifices, to thy honor. Not constrained by 
force, but charmed with thy excellency, ihey shall come in volun- 
teers to thy service, and be free will offerings in thy church. — Nei- 
ther shall they be *' empty vines," or bate professors: but shall walk 
in all the beauties of holiness, and bring forth such amiable fruit, as 
will adorn the doctrine they embrace.— What is still more desirable, 
they shall be as numerousj as they ave willing and holy. Born to 
thee in numbers immense and inconceivable ; exceeding even the 
countless myriads of dew-drops, which are begotten by the night, 
ZTid issue from the womb of the recent moriiirg. 

By this interpretation, the text. I think, is cleared of its obscurity ; 
and appears both iruly sublime, and perfectly just. 

May I be pardoned the digression, and acquitted from presump- 
tion. If, on this occasion, I take leave to animadvert upon what seems 
harsh and unnatural in the common exposition of the last verse of 
this Psalm ? All the commentatois (as many, at least, as I have con- 
sulted) inform their readers^ that to " drink of the brook in the 
way," signifies, *' to undergo sufferings and de.-jth :" which, in my 
opinion, is a construction extremely forced, and hardly supportable- 
altogether remote from the import of such poetical formsof diction, 
customary among the eastern nations. In those sultry climes noth- 
ing could be more welcome to the traveller, than a brook streaming 
i^ear his paths. To quench his thirst, and lave his feet, in the cooi- 
ng current, was one of the greatest refreshments imaginable and re- 



1 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 89 

stinately wicked, though you '' are not gathered, yet will 
the Savior be glorious." His design shall not miscarry, 
nor his labor prove abortive ; though you render it of none 
effect with regard to yourselves. Think not, that Imman- 
uel will want believers, or heaven inhabitants, because you 
continue incorrigible. No, the Lamb that was slain, will 
^^ see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied ; in a never- 
animated him to pursue his journey. For which reason, among 
others, brooks are a very favorite image with the inspired penmen ; 
used to denote a situation fertile and delightful, or a state of pleas- 
ure, and satisfaction ; but never, that I recollect, to picture out the 
contrary condition of tribulation and distress. 

The water-floods, indeed, in the sacred writings, often represent 
some imminent danger, or grievous affliction. But then they are 
not — streams so calm that they keep within their banks, and glide 
quietly by the traveller's footsteps; so clear, that they are fit for the 
wayfaring man*d use, and invite his lips to a draught; both which 
notions are plainly implied in the text. — They are rather — boister- 
ous billows; bursting over a ship, or dashing themselves, with 
dreadful imperuosity, upon the shore: Or — sweeping inundations ; 
which bear down all before them, and drown the neighboring coun» 
try — Besides, in these instances of horror^ we never find the phrase 
— He shall drink ; which conveys a pleasing idea (unless when it 
relates to a cup filled with bitter, intoxicating, or empoisoned li- 
quors ; a case quite different from that under consideration.) 

Upon the whole, may not the passage more properly allude to the 
influences of the Holy Ghost r which were communicated, in un- 
measurable degrees, to our great High- Priest ; and were, in fact, the 
cause of his surmounting ail difficulties — these are frequently repre- 
sented by waters ; *•' Whosoever believeth on me, out of his belly 
shall flow rivers of living waters." The enjoyment of them is de- 
scribed by drinking ; *' He that drinketh of the water that I shall 
give hjm. shall never thirst " — Then the sense may run in this well- 
connected and perspicuou5 manner It is asked. How shall the Re- 
deemer be able to execute the various and important offices foretold 
in the preceding parts of the psalm? Ihe prophet lepKes, ** He 
shall drink of the brook in the way." He shall not be left barely to 
his h jman nature, which must unavoidably smk under the tremen- 
dous work of recovering a lost world; but, through the whole 
course of his incarnate state, through the whole administration of 
his noediatorial kingdom, shall be supported v/ith omnipotent suc- 
cours. He shall drink at the brook of almighty power, and travel 
on in the greatness of an uncreavcd strength. — '* Therefore shall he 
lift up his head,"' By this means, shall he be equal to the prodigious 
task, and superior to all opposition By this means shall he be thor- 
oughly successful in what he undertakes; ^nd greail/ triumpngBt 
o\ef all his enemies. 

H 2 



90 REFLECTIONS 

failing series of faithful people below, and an immense 
choir of glorified saints above, who shall form his retinue, 
and surround his throne, in shining and triumphant armies, 
such as no man can number. 

Here I was reminded of the various expedients which 
Providence, unsearchably wise, uses to fructify both the 
material and intellectual world.- — Sometimes, you shall 
have impetuous and heavy showers, burstir>g from the an- 
gry clouds. They lash the plains, and make the rivers 
foam. A storm brings them, and a deluge follows them. 
—At other times, these gentle dews are formed, in the se- 
rine evening air. They steal down, by slow degrees, and 
"With insensible stillness ; so subtile, that they deceive the 
nicest eye ; so silent, that they escape the most delicate 
ear ; and, when fallen, so very light, that they neither bruise 
the tenderest, nor oppress the weakest flower. — Very dif- 
ferent operations 1 yet each concurs in the same benefi- 
cial end, and both impart fertility to the lap of nature. 

So, some persons have I known reclaimed from the un- 
fruitful works of darkness, by violent and severe means. 
The Almighty addressed their stubborn hearts, as he ad- 
dressed the Israelites at Sinai, with lightning in his eyes, 
and thunder in his voice. The conscience, smit with a 
sense of guilt, and apprehensive of eternal vengeance, 
trembled through all lier powers, just as that strong moun- 
tain tottered to its centre. Pangs of remorse, and agonies 
of fear, preceded their new birth. They were reduced to 
the last extremities, almost overwhelmed with despair, 
before they found rest in Jesus Christ. — Others have been 
recovered from a vain conversation, by methods more mild 
and attractive. The Father ©f spirits applied himself to 
their teachable minds, in " a still and small voice." His 
grace came down, as the rain into a fleece of wool, or as 
these softening drops, which now water the earth. The 
kingdom of God took place in their souls, without noise or 
observation. They passed from death unto life, from a car- 
nal to a regenerate state, by almost imperceptible advan- 
ces. The transition resembled the growth of corn ; was 
very visible, when effected ; though scarce sensible, while 
accomplishing— -O thou Author and Finisher of our faith, 
recal us from our wanderings, and reunite us to thyself ! 
Whether thou alarm us with thy terrors, or allure us with 
thy smiles i whether thou drive us with the scourge of 



I 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 91 

conviction, or draw us with the cords of love ; let us, in 
any wise, return to thee : for thou art our supreme good ; 
thou art our only happiness. 

Before I proceed farther let me ascend the terrace, and 
take one survey of the neighboring country. What a 
prospect rushes upon my sight ! How vast, how various, 
how " full and plenteous with all manner of store !'* Na- 
ture's whole wealth ! — What a rich and inexhaustible 
magazine is here, furnishing subsistence for every crea- 
ture ! Methinks I read, in these spacious volumes, a most 
lively comment upon that noble celebration of the divine 
beneficence ; " He openeth his hand, and fiUeth all things 
living with plenteousness." 

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good. 
Almighty ! Thme this universal frame, 
Thus wond'rous fair I thyself how wond'rous then ! 

Milton. 

The fields are covered deep, and stand thick, with corn* 
They expand the milky grain to the sun ; while the gales, 
now inclining, now raising each flexile stem, open all their 
ranks to the agency of his beams ! which will soon impart 
a firm consistence to the grain, and a glossy golden hue to 
the ear, that they may be qualified to fill the barns of the 
husbandman, with plenty, and his heart with gladness. 

Yonder lie the meadows, smoothed into a perfect level ;- 
decorated with an embroidery of the gayest flowers, and 
loaded with spontaneous crops* of herbage ; which, con- 
verted into hay, will prove a most commodious provision 
for the barrenness ot winter ; will supply with fodder our 
serviceable animals, when all the verdure of the plain is 
killed by frosts, or buried in snow^s. — A winding stream 
glides along the flowery margin, and receives the image of 
the bending skies, and waters the roots of many a branch- 
ing willow. It is stocked no doubt, with variety of fish, 
which aflbrd a solitary diversion to the angler, and furnish 
for his table a delicious treat. Nor is it the only merit of 
this liquid element, to maintain the finny nations; it also 
carries cleanliness, and dispenses fruitfulness, wherever it 
rolls the crystal current. 

*— Injus.^a virescunt 
Gramina— r/>|^. 



92 REFLECTIONS 

The pastures, with theii verdant mounds, chequer the 
prospect, and prepare a standing repast for our cattle. 
There " our oxen are made strong to labor, and our sheep 
bring forth thousands and ten thousands." There the 
horses acquire vigor for the dispatch of our business, and 
speed to expedite our journeys. From thence th. kine 
bring home their udders, distended with one of the rich- 
est and healthiest liquors in the world. 

On several spots, a grove of trees, like some grand col- 
onade, erects its towering head. Every one piojects a 
friendly shade for the beasts, and creates a hospitable lodg- 
ing for the bu'ds. Every one stands ready, to furnish tim- 
ber for a palace, n^asts for a navy, or, with a m.ore conde- 
scending courtesy, fuel for cur hearths. — One of them 
seems skirted with a wild uncultivated heath; which, like 
well disposed shades in painting, throws an additional lus- 
tre on the more ornamented parts of the landscape. Nor 
is its usefulness, like that of a foil, relative only, hut reah 
There several valuable creatures are prodtced. a d ac- 
con modated, without any expence or care of ojis.— 
There, likewise, spring abundance of those herb^-, which 
assuage the smart of our wounds, and allay the fiery tu- 
mults of the fever ; which impart floridity to our circula- 
ting Pxuids, add a more vigorous tone to our active solids, 
and thereby, repair the decays of our enfeebled constitu- 
tions. 

Nearer the houses, we perceive an ample spread of 
branches, not so stately as the oaks, but more amiable for 
their annual services. A little while ago, 1 beheld them ; 
and all was one beauteous, boundless waste of blossoms. 
The eye marvelled at the lovely sight, and the heart rejoi- 
ced in the prospect of autumnal plenty. But now the 
blooming maid is resigned for the useful matron. The 
flower is fallen, and the fruit swells out on every twig.— 
Breathe solt. ye winds ! O spare the terider fruitage, ye 
surly blasts 1 Let the pear-ti^ee suckle her juicy progeny, 
till they drop into our hands, and dissolve in our mouths. 
Let the plumb han.e unuiolested upon her boughs, till she 
fatten her delicious flesh, and cloud her polished skin with 
blue. And as for the apples, that staple commodity of our 
orchards, let no injurious shocks preci itate them imma- 
turely to the ground ; till revolving suns have tinged them 
with a ruddy complexion, and concocted them into an ex- 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. ^'> 

quiske flavor. Then, what copious hoards, of what bur- 
nished rinds, and what delightful relishes, will replenish 
the store-room ! Some, to present us with an early enter- 
tainment, and refresh om* palates amidst the sultry heats. 
Some, to borrow ripeness from the falling snows, and car- 
ry autumn into the depths of winter. Some, to adorn the 
salver, make a part of the dessert, and make an agreeable 
close to our feasts * Others, to fill our vats with a foaming 
flood, which, mellowed by age, may sparkle in the glass, 
with a liveliness and delicacy little inferior to the blood of 
the grape. 

I observe several small enclosures, which seem to be ap- 
prehensive of some hostile visit from the North ; and, 
therefore, are defended on that quarter, by a thick wood, 
or a lofty wall. At the same time, they cultivate an unin- 
terrupted correspondence with the south, and throw open 
their whole dimensions to its friendly warmth. One, in 
particular, lies within the reach of a distinguished view, 
and proves to be a kitchen-garden. It looks, methinks, 
like a plain and frugal republic. Whatever may resem- 
ble the pomp of courts, or the ensigns of royalty, is ban- 
ished from this humble community. None of the produc- 
tions of the olitory affect finery, but all are habited with the 
very perfection of decency. Here those celebrated quali- 
ties are eminently united, the utmost sunpiicity with the 
exa test neatness-t — A skilful hand has parcelled out the 
whole ground, in narrow beds, and intervening alleys. 
The same discreet management has assigned to each ver- 
dant family, a peculiar and distinct abode. So that there is 
no confusion, s midst the greatest multiplicity ; because ev- 
ery individual kiiows its proper home, and all the tiibes are 
ranged with perfect regularity. — If it be pleasing to be- 
hold their orderly situation, and their modest beauties ; 
how much more delightful, to consider the advantages 
they yield ! What a fund of choice accommodations is 
here I what a source of wholesome dainties ! and all, for 
the enjoyment of man. Why does the parsley, with her 
frizzled locks, shag the border ; or why the celery, with 
her whitening arms perforate the mold, but to render his 

* — Ab ovo 
Usque ad mala- Hor, 

t Simplex munditii^— /f^. 



94 REFLECTIONS 

soups savoury ? The asparagus shoots its tapering; stems,* 
to offer hiiii the first fruits of the season ; and the arti- 
choke spreads its turgid top, to give liim a treat of veget- 
able marrow. The tendrils of the cucumber creep into 
the sun ;* and, though basking in its hottest rays, they i^e- 
crete for their master, and barrel up for his use, the most 
cooling juices of the soil. TTie beans stand firm, like files 
of embattled troops ; the peas rest upon their props, like 
so many companies of invalids; while both replenish their 
pods with the fatness of the earth, on purpose to pour it 
on their owner's table. — Not one species, among ail this 
variety of herbs, is a cuniberer of the ground. Not a sin- 
gle plant, but is good for food, or some way salutary. 
With so beneficent an oeconomy, are the several periods 
of their mii.istration settled, that no portion of the year is 
left destitute of nouiishing esculents. What is still more 
obuging, every portion of the year affords such esculents, 
as are best suited to the temperature oF the air, and the 
state of our bodies. W-y then shoukl the possessor of so 
valuable a spot envy the condition of kings ?t since he liay 
daily walk amidst rows of peaceable and obsequious, ^ho' 
mute subjects; every one of which tenders him some a- 
greeable present, and pays him a willing tribute; such as 
is n<ost happily adapted, both to supply his wants and to 
regale his taste ; to furnish him at once, with plenty and 
with pleasure. 
^t a distance, one descries the mighty hills * — They 

* Virgil, with great conciseness, and equal propriety, describes the 

cucunaber— 

— 1 ortusque per herbam 

Cresceret in ventrem cucumis,— G^^or^. IV. 

Milton has,, (if we admit Dr. Bentky's alteration^ which is, I 
think, in this place, unquestionably just) ainaost translated the Latin 
poet. 

. — -Forth crept 

The swelling gourd Par. Lost. b. VII. 1. 32Q, 

t Hie rarunn tannen in dumis olus, albaque circum 
Lilia, veibenasquepremens, vescumque papaver, 
Regum cequabat opes arimis j seraque revertens ^ 
Nocte domum, dapibus mensas onerabat inemptis,- 

Vir. G^org. IV. 



ON A J'LOWER-GARDEN. 95 

iCave their huge ridges among the clouds ; and look like 
-he barriers of kingdoms, or the boundaries of nature. 
Bare and deformed as their surface may appear, their bow- 
els are fraugnt with inward treasures ! treasures lodged 
fast in the quarries, or sunk deep in the mines. From 
thence, industry may draw her implements to plough the 
soil, to reap the grain, and procure every necessary con- 
venience. From thence art may fetch her materials, to 
rear the dome, to swell the organ, and form the noblest 
ornaments of politer life. 

On another side, the great deep terminates the view. 
There go the ships ; there is that Leviathan ; and there, 
in that world of waters, an inconceivable number of ani- 
mals have their habitation. — This is the capacious cistern 
of the universe, which admits, as into a receptacle, and 
distributes, as from a reservoir, whatever waters the 
whole globe. There is not a fountain that gushes in the 
unfrequented desert, nor a rivulet that flows in the remo- 
test continent, nor a cloud that swims in the highest re- 
gions of the firmament, but is fed by this all-replenishing 
source. — The ocean is the grand vehicle of trade, and 
the uniter of distant nations. To us it is pecuharly kind, 
not only as it wafts into our ports the harvest of every cli- 
mate, and renders our island the centre of tL'affic, but also 
as it secures us from foreign invasions, by a sort of im- 
pregnable entrenchment.* 

Methinks, the view of this profuse munificence inspires 
a secret delight, and kindles a disinterested good will.— 
While the '^ little hills clap their haads,'* and the luxu- 

♦ Whose rampart was the sea, Nahumiii 8. 

I hope this little excursiou into the counciry, will not be looked up- 
on as a departure fron: rny subject j because a rural view, though no 
essential part of a garden, is yei a de'«rable appendage, and neces- 
sary to complete its beauty As usefulness is the most valuable 
property which can attend any production, this is the circumstance 
chiefly touched upon rri the Huivey of the landscape Though every 
piece of this extensive and diversified scene ^ cast in the most ex- 
cellent mould, yet nothing is calculated merely for shew and parade. 
You see nothing formed w ihe taste of the ostentatious obelisk, or 
insignificant pomp of the pyramid No such idle expenses were 
admitted into^ that consummate plan, which regulated the structure 
of the uriiverse. All the decorations of nature are no less advanta- 
geous than ornamental; such as speak the Maker infinitely beiiefi-" 
cent, as well as incomparably magnificent. 



96 REFLECTIONS 

riant ^* valleys laugh and sing," who can forbear catching 
the general joy ? who is not touched with lively sensa- 
tions of pleasure ? — While the everlasting Father is scat- 
tering blessings through his whole family, and crowning 
the year with his goodness, who does not feel his breast o- 
verflowing with a diffusive benevolence ? — My heart, I 
must confess, beats high with satisfaction, and breathes 
out congratulatoiy wishes, upon ail the tenants of these 
rural abodes : " Peace be within your walls, as well as 
plenteousness around your dwellings." Live, ye highly 
favored, live sensible of your benefits, and thankful to 
your benefactor. Look round upon these prodigiously large 
incomes of the fruitful soil, and call them (for you have 
free leave) all your own — Only let me remind you of one 
veiy important truth. Let me suggest, and you may ne- 
ver forget, you are obliged to Jesus Christ, for every one 
of these accommodations, which spring from the teeming 
earth, and the smiling skies. 

1. Christ made them,* when they were not. — He fetch- 
ed them up from utt r darkness, and gave them both their 
being, and their beauty. He created the materials of 
which they are composed, and msulded them into this 

* When I ascribe the work of creation to the Son, I would by 
TiO means be supposed ro withhold the sanne honor fronn the erer- 
nal Father and evev-bleised Spirit, The acts nf those incoriceivably 
glorious persons, are, like their essence undivided and one but I 
chuse to state the po^nt in this manner, because this is the manifest 
doctrirse of the New Testament is the express belief of our church, 
and a most noble peculiariiy oi the gospel revelation..- I chuse i- al- 
so^ because I would take eve?y opportunity of inculcating, and cele- 
brating the divinity of ^he Redeemer ; A truth, which innparts 
an unutterable dignity to Christian! y ; a truh which laN s an im- 
movable foundation for all the comfortable hope^ of a Christian ; 
atruih, which willrerder the mystery of our redem()tion the won- 
derand delight of eternity ; and iv i-h this truth, every one will ob- 
serve, my assertion is in.eparabiy connecred. 

If any one questions, whether this be the doctrine of our church? 
let the creed, wnich we repeat m our nfK}st solemn devotions, decer- 
mine his doubt ; '* I believe.'* says that form of sound words, ** in 
one Lord Je^us Christ very God of very Gcd by vvhonn all things 
were made "' If it be farther enqu>r€d from whence the Nicene 
fathers der ved this article oi their faith ? I answer From the wri- 
tings of the beloved di'cyle. who lay on the Saviour's bo om : and 
of that gredt apostle. ,v ho had been caught up into ihe third heaven. 
John i» 3. Colo554 !• 16. 



ON A FLOWER GARDEN. 9f 

endless multiplicity of amiable forms, and useful substan- 
ces- He arrayed the heavens with a vesture of the mil- 
dest blue, and clothed the earth in a livery of the gayest 
green. His pencil streaked^ and his breath peifumed, 
whatever is beautiful or fragrant in the universe. His 
strength set fast the mountains ; his goodness jjaniis hed 
the vales : and the same touch which healed the leper, 
wrought the whole visible system into this complete per- 
fection. 

2. Christ recovered them when they were forfeited. — 
By Adam's sin, we lost our right to the comforts of life, 
aiKi fruits of the ground. His disobedience was the most 
impious and horrid treason against the King of kings. 
Consequently his whole patiimony became confis-^ atf^-d ; 
as well the portion of temporal good things, settled upon 
the human race during their minority, as that everlasting 
heritage reserved for their enjoyment, when they should 
come to full age. But the '' seed of the Avoman," in- 
stantly interposing, took off the attainder, and redeemed 
the alienated inheritance. — The first Adam being disin- 
herited, the second Adam was appointed heir of all 
things, visible as well as invisible.* And we hold our 
possession of the former ; we expect an instatement in 
the latter, purely by virtue of our alliance to him, and our 
union with him. 

3. Christ upholds them, which would otherwise tumble 
into ruin. — By him, says the oracle of inspiration, al! 

* Heb i. 2.— In this sense at least, Christ is the Saviour of all 
men. The fornner and latter rain ; the precious fruits of the earth ; 
food to eat, and rainaent to put on ; — all these he purchased, even 
for his irreclaimable enemies. They eat of his bread, who lift up 
their heel against hifn. ' 

We Jear^ from hence in what a peculiar and endearing light, 
the Christian is to contemplate the thing- that are seen. Heathens 
might discover an eternal power, and infinite wisdom, in the struc- 
ture of ^he universe: Heathens migh*- acknowledge a m^ost stupen- 
dous liberality, in the unre=;erved grant of the whole fabric, w^th all 
its furniture, to the service cf man. Bu* the Christian should ever 
keep in mind, his forfeiture of them, and the pr ce paid to redeem 
them He should recei\e the gifts of indulgent Providence, as the 
Israelites received :he:r law from the hard of s Mediator Or rath- 
er, to hino they shouM come, not only issuing from the f tores of an 
unbounded bounty, but swimming (as it were) in that crimson tide, 
which streamed fronn Immaauel's veins. 

I 



98 REFLECTIONS 

things consist.* His fi.iger roils the seasons round, and 
presides over ail tne celestial revoiutio-iS. His fi' ger 
winds up the wheels, and impels every spring of vegeta- 
tive nature. In a word, the whole weight of the creation 
rests upon his mighty arm, and receives tiie whole hain'io- 
ny of its motion from his unerring eye — This habitaole 
globe, with all its nice appendages and fine machinery, 
could no more continue, than they couki create them- 
selves. Start they would into instant confusion, and drop 
into their primitive nothing, did not his power support, 
and his wisdom regulate them, every moment. In con- 
forniity to his will, they subsist steadfast and invariable in 
their orders, and wait only for his sovereign nod, to '' fall 
*' away like water that runneth apace.'^ 

4. Christ actuates them,t which would otherwise be 
lifeless and insignificant — Pensioners they are, constant 
pensioners on his bounty, and borrow their all from his 
fulness. Hex)nly has life; and v/hatever operates, oper- 
ates by an emanation from his all-bufficiency. Does the 
grape refresh you with its enlivening juices ! It is by a 
%varrant received, and virtue derived, from the Redeemer. 
Does bread strengthen your heart, and prove the staff of 
your life ? R^-member that it is by the Saviour's appoint- 
ment, and through the efficacy of his oper-ation. You are 
charmed with his melody, when the " time of the singing 
of birds come, and the voice of the nightingale is heard in 
your land." You taste his goodness in the luscious fig, 
the melting peach, and the musky flavor of the apricot. 
You smell his sweetness in the opening honey-suckle and 
every odoriferous shrub. 

Could these rreatures speak for themselves, they would, 
doubtless, disclaim all suffi' iency of their own, and as- 
cribe the whole honor to their Maker — " We are ser- 
vants," would they say, " of him who died for you. Cis- 

* Col. i. 17. 

t John V. 17. *<My Father worketh hitherto, and I work;" 
or, 1 exert that unretnitied and unwearied energy, which is the life 
of the creation.— Thus the \^-ords are paraphrased by a masterly 
expo<.itor. who has illustrated the life of our blessed Lord, in the 
moVt elej^ant tasre of cri-ic.sm, with the most amiable spirir of de- 
votion ; and without any mixture of rhe malignant sp»een, or low 
sinsularitiesof a party, * $e€ the Family Expositor,, vol. i. sect.^4r. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 99 

** terns, only dry cisterns in ourselves, we transmit to mor- 
" tals no more thaij the uncreated fountain transtuses into 
'' us. Think not. tl.at, from any ability of our own, we 
*' furnish you with assistance', or administer toya(k'«:om- 
'^ fort. It is the divine energy, tJie divine energy alone, 
" that works in us, and does you good. — We serve you, 
" O ye sons of men, thi^t you (nay love him who placed us 
" in these stations. O ! love the Lord, therefore, all ye 
" who are supported by our ministry, or else we shall 
" groan,* with indignation and regret, at your abuse of 
^' our services. — Use us and welcome ; for we are 
" yours, if ye are Christ's. Crop our choicest beauties; 
^' rifle all our treasures ; accommodate you^'selves with 
'' our most vahjable qualities: only let us be incentives 
" to your gratitude, and motives to your obedience." 

Hiving srivveyed the spacious sky, and sent a glance 
round the inferior creation, it is time to descend from 
this eminence, and confine my attention to the beautiful 
spot below. — Here Nature, always pleasing, every where 
lovely, appears with peculiar attractions. Yonder, she 
seems dressed in her dishabille : grand, but irregular. 
Here, she calls in her handmaid, Art, and shines in all the 
delicate ornaments which the nicest cultivation is able to 
convey. Those are her comnaon apartments, where she 
lodges lier ordinary guests'; this is her cabinet of curiosi- 
ties, where she entertains her intimate acquaintance.— 
My eyes shall often expatiate over those scenes of univer- 
sal fertility ; my feet shall brush through the thicket* or 
traverse the lav-^n, or stroll along the forest glade; but to 
this delightful retreat, shall be my chief resort. Thither 
will I make excursions, but here will I dwell. 

If, from my low procedure, I may form an allusion to 
the most exalted practices, I would observe, upon this oc- 
casion, that the celebrated Erasmus, and our judicious 
Locke, having trod the circle of the sciences, and ranged 
through the whole extent of human literature, at length 
betook themselves solely to the Bible. Leading the sa- 
ges of antiquity, they sat incessantly at the feet of Jesus. 
Wisely they withdrew from that immense multiplicity of 
learning: from those endless tracts of amusing erudition, 
Vvhere noxious weeds are mixed with wholesome herbs : 

* Rom. viii. 22. 



100 



REFLECTIONS 



where is generally a much larger growth of prickly shrubs, 
than oi fruitful boughs. They spent their most mature 
hours in those hallowed gardens, which God's own wis- 
dom ^nted : which God's own Spirit walereth, and in 
•which God's own Son is continually walking ; where he 
meeteth those that seek him, and reveaieth to them the 
glc ries of his person, and the riches of his goodness. 

Thus would 1 finish the remainder of my days ! Having 
just tasted (what they call) the politer studies, I would 
now devote my whole application to the lively oracles. 
From other pursuits 1 might glean, perhaps, a few scat- 
tered fragments of lov/, of lean, of unsatisfactory instruc- 
tion. From this 1 trust to reap a harvest ot the sublimest 
truths ; the noblest improvements, and the purest joys.*— 
Waft me then, O ! waft my mind to Sion's consecrated 
bowers. Let my thoughts perpetually rove through the 
awfully pleasing walks of inspiration. Here grow those 
heaven-born plants, the trees of life and knowledge, whose 
ambrosial fruits we now may '* take, and eat, and live for- 
ever.'* Here flow those precious streams of grace, and 
righteousness, whose living waters " whosoever drinks, 
shall thirst no more." And what can the fables of Gre- 
cian song, or the finest pages of Roman eloquence, — what 
can they exhibit, in any degree, comparable to these 
matchless prerogatives of revelation ? — -Therefore, though 
1 should not dislike to pay a visit now and then to my 
Heathen mas ers, I would live with the prophets s^nd a- 
postles. With those I would carry on some occasioual 
correspondence ; but these should be my bosom friends ; 
my inseparable companions ; " my delight, and my coun- 
sellors." 

What sweets are these, which so agreeably salute my 
nostrils? They are the breath of the flowers? the in- 
cense of the garden. — How liberally does the jessamine 
dispense her odoriferous riches ? How deliciously has the 
Woodbine embalmed this morning-walk ? The air is all 
perfume. — And is not this another most engaging argu- 
ment, to forsake the bed of sloth ? Who would lie dissol- 
ved in senseless slumbers, while so many breathing 
sweets invite him to a feast of fragrancy ? especially consid- 



* Qu'cquid docetcjr, veritaS ; quicquid pixcipitur, bonitasj quiC' 
quid promittitur, felicitg^s. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 10 1 

ering, that the advancing day will exhale the volatile 
dainties. A fagitiv'e treat tney are, prepared only for the 
wakeful and industrious ; Whereas, when the sluggard 
lifts his heavy eyes, the flowers will droop ; their fine 
scents be dissipated; and instead of this refreshing humid- 
ity, the air will become a kind of liquid fire. 

With this very motive, heigntened by a representation 
of the most charming pieces of mormng scenery, the par- 
ent of mankind awakes his lovely consort. There is such 
a delicacy in the choice, and so much life in the descrip- 
tion, of these rural images, that I cannot excuse myself^ 
without repeating the whole passage — Whisper it, some 
friendly genius, in the ear of every one, who is now sunk 
in sleep, and lost to all these refined gratifications ! 

Awake : the morning shines, and the fresh field 
Calls you : ye lose the piime, to mark how spring 
The tended plants, how blows the citr )n grove ; 
What drops the myrrh, and vvhat the balmy reed ; 
How Nature paints her colours ; how the bee 
Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweets."* i 

How delightful is this fragrance ! it is distributed in 
the nicest proportion ; neither so strong as to oppress 
the organs, nor so faint as to elude them. We are soon 
cloyed at a sumptuous banquet, but this pleasure never 
loses its poignancy, never palls the appetite. — Here, lux- 
hiry itself is innocent ; or rather, in this case, indulgence 
^is incapable of excess. This balmy entertainment, not on- 
ly regales the sense, but cheers the very soul ;t and in- 
stead of clogging, elates its powers.— It puts me in mind 
of that ever memorable sacrifice, which was once made 
in behalf of offending mortals. I mean the sacrifice of the 
blessed Jesus ; when he offered up himself to God , " for 
a sweet-smeiling savour." Such the Holy Spirit styles 
that wonderful oblation, as if no image, in the whole sen- 
sible creation, was so proper to give us an idea of the in- 
effable satisfaction, which the Father of Mercies conceiv- 
ed, from that unparalleled atonement ; as the pleasing 

* Milt. Par. Lost, b. v. lin. 20. 

t " Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart." Prov. xxvii. 9. 
T <^ 



102 REFLECTIONS 

sensations which such rich perfumes are capable of rais* 
ing '' Thousands of rams and ten thousands of rivers 
of oil," from an apostate world, the most submissive ac- 
'^ knowledgnients added to the most costly oHerings, from 
Trien of defiled hands, and unclean lips, wnat'could they have 
effected ? A prophet represents the '^ High and lofty One, 
that inhabits eternity," turning himself away fromv such 
filthy rags ; turning himself away with a disdainful ab- 
horrence,* as from the noisome streams of a dunghill. — 
But in Christ's immaculate holiness, in Christ's cor-hum- 
inate obeuience, in Chiist's most precious blood-shedding, 
'with what unimaginable complacency does ju«.tice rest 
satisfied, and vengeance acquiesce I — All thy works, O 
thou surety for ruined sinners 1— all thy sufferings, O 
thou slaughtered Lamb of God ' as well as ail thy gar- 
ments, O thou bridegroom of thy church ! sm.ell of myrrh, 
aloes, and cassia If They are infinitely more grateful to 
the eternal godhead, than the choicest exhalations of the 
garden, than all the odours of the spicy east, can be to the 
human nostrils. 

As the altar of old sanctified the gift ; so this is the 
great propitiation, which recommends the obnoxious per- 
sons, and unprofitable services of the believing world. In 
this, may my soul be interested ! by this, may it be recon- 
ciled to the Father ! — There is such a leprous depravit}^ 
eleavijjg to my nature, as pollutes whatever I perform. 
My most profound adorations, and sincerest acts of reli- 
gion, must not presume to challenge a reward, but hum- 
bly implore forgiveness.:]: Renouncing, therefore, myself 
in eveiy instance of duty, disclaiming all shadow of confi- 

* Amos V. 21, 22. t Psal. xlv. 8. 

I A writer of distinguished superiority, thus addresses the great 
Obse'.ver of actions and searcher of hearts ; and vindicates my sen- 
tlmems, while he so justly and beautifully utters his own; 



Look down, great God ? with pity's softest eye, 
On a poor breaching particle in dust- 
His crinjes forgive ; forgive his virtues too. 
Those smaller faults h5ilf converts to the right. 

Nigbt-Thou^hts, No. IX. 



CN A FLOWER-GARDEN. 103 

dence in any deeds of my own, may I noWj and evermore, 
be accepted through the Beloved I* 

What colors, what charming colors are here ; these, 
so nobly bold, and those so delicately languid. Waat a 
glow is enkindled in some ! what a gloss shines upon oth- 
ers ! In one, methinks, I see the ruby in her bleeding ra- 
diance : in another, the sapphire w^ith her sky- tinctured 
blue ; in all, such an exquisite richness of dyes, as no oth- 
er set of paintings in the universe can boast.f — With 
what a masterly skill, is every one of the varying tints 
disposed I Here they seem to be thrown on with an easy 
dash of security and freedom ; there they are adjusted by 
the nicest touches of art and accuracy. Those which form 
the ground, are always so judiciously chosen, as to heigh- 
ten the lustre of the superadded figures, while the verdure 
of the impalement, or the shadings of the foliage, impart 
new liveliness to the whole. Indeed whether they are 
blended or arranged, softened or contrasted, they are man- 
ifestly under the conduct of a taste that never mistakes, 
a felicity that never falls short of, the very perfection of 
elegance. — Fine, inimitably fine, is the texture of the web, 
on which these shining treasures are displayed. What 
are the labors of the Persian looms, ©r the boasted com- 
modities of Brussels, compared with these curious man- 
ufactures of nature ? Compai'ed wuth these, the most ad- 

* Seepage 44 and 45 In the second ediiivon of a most candid and 
evangelical little treatise, called. Christianiivc the great Ornament 
of Human Life. — *^ Lf Christians happilv avoid the dangerous ex- 
trenne, and too often fatal rock, of a dead fruitless fa^th on the one 
hand, he (i. e. Satan) will ende#7or by ail kinds of piaus-ble insinu- 
ations, to split thenn on the opposite^ viz. spiritual pride, ostenta- 
tion, and dependence on their works, as if these vvere the meritori- 
ou:. or procuring cause of all true peace, hope, consolation, and di- 
vine acceptance ~ Now, this self iiependence mav be ranked among 
the most dangerous of the infernal politics, because the fatal poison 
lies deep, and too often undi seemed." 



-Who can paint 



Like Nature? Can Innugination boast, 

Anriid his gav creation, hues like the^^e ? 

And can he mix them with that matchless skill. 

And lay them on so delicate!) fine, 

And lose them in each other, as appears 

In evVy bud that blows ? Thompsons Springs 



104 REFLECTIONS 

mired chintzes lose their reputation ; even superfine 
cambrics appear coarse as canvas in their presence. 

What a cheering argument does our Saviour derive 
from hence, to strengthen our affiance in God ! He di- 
rects us to learn a lesson of heaven dependmg faithj 
from every bird that wings the aii^, and from every flow- 
er that blossoms in the field. If providence, with unre- 
mitted care, supports those irjferior creatures, and arrays 
these insensible beings with so much splendor ; surely 
he will in no wise withhold, from his elect children, 
^' bread to eat, and raiment to put on." — Ye faithful fol^ 
lowers of the Lamb, dismiss every low anxiety, relating to 
the needful sustenance of life. He that feeds the ravens, 
from an inexhaustible magazine ; he that paints the plants, 
with such surpassing elegance ; in short, he that provides 
so liberally, both for the animal and vegetable parts of his 
creation ; will not, cannot neglect his own people — ^' Fear 
not. little flock," ye peculiar objects of almighty love ! ^'it 
is your Father's good pleasure to give you a kingdom.''* 
And> if he freely gives you an everlasting kingdom here- 
after, is it possible to suppose, that he will deny you any 
necessary conveniences here ? 

One cannot forbear reflecting, in this place, on the too 
prevailing humor of being fond and ostentatious of dress.f 

*L'3kexn.32.' 

t Mr» Addison has a fine remark on a female warrior, celebra- 
ted by Virgil He observes, that, vvlth all her other great qualities, 
this Utile foible mingled itself; because as the poet relates, an in- 
temperate fondness for a rich and^iplendid suit of armour, betrayed 
her imo ruin. In this circumstance, our critic discovers a moral 
concealed : this he admiies, as a neat, though oblique satire, on that 
trifling passion.. Spect. vol. i. No. 15. 

I would refer it to the judicious reader, whether there Is not a 
beauty of the same kind, but touched vv^th a more masterly hand, 
in the song of Deborah,— Speaking of Sisera's mother, the sacred 
eusharistic ode represents her as anticipating, in her fond fancy, the 
victory of her son ; and indulging the following soliloquy : — *♦ Have 
they not sped ? have they not divided the prey ? to Sisera a prey of 
divers colore ; a prey of divers colors of needle-work ; of divers 
colors of needlework on both sides; meet for the necks of them 
that take the spoil ?"— She takes no notice of the signal service, 
which her hero would do to his country, by quelling so dangerous 
an iiisurrection. She never reflects on the present acclamations, the 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 105 

What an abject and mistaken ambition is this ! how un- 
worthy the dignity of immortal, and the wisdom of ration- 
al beings ! especially since these little productions of the 
earth have indisputably the pre-eminence in such out- 
ward embellishments. — Go, clothe thyself with purple, 
and fine linen ; trick thyself up in all the gay attire, which 
the shuttle or the needle can furnish : yet know^ to the 
mor<^^ification of thy vanit/, that the native elegance of a 
common daisy* eclipses all this elaborate finery.~Nay, 
wert thou decked like some illustrious princess, on her 
coronMion day, in all the splendor of royal apparel ; 
couldst thou equal even Solomon, in the height of his 
magnificence and glory; yet would the meanest among 
the flowery populace outshine thee. Every discerning 
eye would give the preference to these beauties of the 
earth.t Scorn then to borrow thy recommendations from 
a neat disposition of threads, and a curious arrangement 

future advancement, and the eternal renown, which are the tribute 
usually paid to a conqueror's merit. She can conceive, it seems, 
nothing greater, than tobec^adinan embroidered vesture; and to 
trail along the ground, a robe of the richest dyes. Th'.s is, in her 
imagination, the most lordly spoil he can w in ; the ir*osr stately 
trophy he can erect — It is also observable, how she dwells upon 
the trivial circumsrance, reiterating it again and again. It has so 
charmed her ignoble heart, so entirely engrossed her Intle views, 
that she can thiniv of nothing else, speak of nothing else, and can 
hardly ever desist from ihe dajrling topic — Is not this a keen, though 
delicately couched censure, on that poor, contempuble^ grovelling 
taste, which is enamoured wiih silken finery, and makes the attri- 
butes of a butterfly ihe idol of its affeciions ? * 

How conspicuous is the elevated and magnificent spirit of that 
venerable mother in Israel, when viewed in comparison with the 
lev/, the despicable turn of this Canaanitish lady !— Such strong 
and beautiful contrasts are, 1 think, some of the most stnkmg ex- 
cellencies of poetic painting: and in no book are they m.ore fre- 
quently used, or expressed with greater life, than in the sacred vol- 
tinnes of inspiration. 

* Peaceful and lowly in theirnative soil, *" ^ 

They neuher know to spin, nor care to toi] ; 

Yet wHh confess'd magnificence deride 

Our mean attire, and impotence of pride — Prior. 

t Mr. Cowly, v/iih his usual brilliancy of imagination styles them 
^tars of earth. 



06 REFLECTIONS 

of OHors. Assume a becoming greatness of temper. Let 
tl.v .lOWOK LIS be of ihe immortai kind. Study to he all 
gi U3 wit; 1 .. Be clothed with hum iiity. Wear the 
orna.i'ent of a meek atid quiet spirit.* To say all 
in a \ioi c!, '' Put on ihe Lord Jesus Christ :"t let his 
Wood be spriiikLe<:i upon tliy conscience, and it shall be 
v/hitcr than the virgin-snows'^ Let his righteousness, like 
a spotless robe, ac'orn thy inner-man ; and thou sh^lt be 
andable, even ir. tlie most distiuguisl.ing eye ol God. Let 
his blessed Spirit dwell in thy heart : and under his sanc- 
tify iig operations, thou shalt be made partaker of a divine 
nature. 

Tnese are real excellencies ; truly noble accomplish- 
meiits these. In this manner be arrayed, be beautified ; 
and thou wilt not hnd a rival in the feathers of a peacock, 
or the foliation of a tulip. These will exalt thee far a- 
bove tlie low pretensions of lace and en)broidery. These 
will prepare thee to stand in the beatific presence, and to 
take thy seat among the angels of light. 

What an enchanting situation is this ! One can scarce 
be melancholy within the atmosphere of flowers. Such 
lively hues, and delicious odours, not only address them- 
selves agreeably to the senses'; but touch, with a surpri- 
shig delicacy, the sweetest movements of the mind : 

-To the heart inspiring 

Vernal I delight and joy. Milt. b. iv. 

* Row beauttful does \he prophet describe the furniture of a re- 
neweti and heaveniy mind, under the siTiiilitnde of a rich and com- 
plfte suit of apparel ! '• I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; ip.y soul 
shall be joyful in my God ; for he hath clothed me with the gar- 
ments of sL^'van'on ; he hath covered me with the robe of lighteous- 
ness, as a brirlegroom decketh himself with ornam.ents, and as 9- 
bride adorneth herself w'ith jewels.*' Isa, Ixi- 10- 

•f Rom. xiii. li. 

^ *' I would have my reader endeavor to moralize this nat- 
ural pleasure of the soul, and to improve this vernal delight, as 
Milton calls it, into a Christian virtue. Wlien we find ourselves 
inspired with thi? pleasing instinct, this secret satibfaction arid 
complacency , arising from the beauties of the creation, let u; con- 
sider, to whom we stand indebied for all these entertainments of 
sense; and who it is fhat thus opens his hand; and fills the world 



ON A FLOWIK-GAKDEN. 107 

How often have I feit tlioiii di^- pate the gloom of 
thouj^ht, and transfuse a sudaea ^airy th."ough tue de- 
5e€t:;d spirit 1 1 caonot woi der. that kings descend fi^om 
their thrones, to walk amidst bloomii^g ivoiy ai.d ^2:oid ; or 
retire from tne most sumptuous least, to be recreated with 
the more refined sweets of the garden. I cannot woiidcr^ 
that queens forego for a while the ro'Tilrj cits of a na- 
tion, to receive the tribute of a parterre ; (.r Vvithd; av/ from 
all the glitter of a coui't, to be attt-nded with tae more 
splendid equi;>age of a bed of fio\ver-i.~Bat if this be so 
pleasing, what transporting pleasure ^: 'osi arise from the 
fruition of uncreated excellency! O! what unknown de- 
liglit to enter into thy immediate presence, most biet^sed 
Lord God ! to see thee, thou king of hc-jven, and Lord 
of glory,* no longer '^ through a glass darkly, but face to 
face !" to have ail thy goodness, ail thy greatness, shine 
before us ; and be made glad for ever wi. h the brightest 
discovery of thy perfections, with the ineffable joy of thy 
countenance I 

This we cannot bear, in our present imperfect state. 
The effulgence of unveiled Divinity, would dazzle a mor- 
tal sight. Our feeble faculties would be overwhelmed 
with such a fulness of superabundant bliss ; and must lie 
oppressed, under such an exceeding great, eternal weight 
' of glory. — But, when this corruptible hath put on incor- 
Tuption, the powers of the soul will be greatly invigora- 
ted ; and these earthly tabernacles will be transformed 

with good. — Such an habitual disposition of mind consecrates every 
field and wood ; turns an ovdinarv walk into a morning and eve- 
ning sacrifice : and will improve those transient gleanr-s, which 
naturally brighten up and refresh the soul on such occasions, in- 
to an inviolable and perpetual state of bliss and happiness." 

Sfect vol V. No. 394. 

* Isaiah represents the felicity of the righteous, in the everlasting 
world, by this elegant and anaiabie image i "1 hine eyes shall see 
the.king in his beauty.*— Milton touches the same subject, with 
wonderful elevation and majesty of thought ; 



-They walk with God, 



High in salvation, and the climes of bliss. 

Words, which, like the fiery car, almost transport our affection t# 
those glorious ?ibodes, Isa. xxxiii. 17i Milt, b. xi. v, 707, 



108 REFLECTIONS 

into the likeness of Christ's glorious body. Then, 
'' though the moon shall be confounded, and the sun a- 
shamed,"* when the Lord of hosts is revealed from heav- 
en ; yet shall his faithful people be enabled to '' see liim 
as he is."t 

Here then, my wishes, here be fixed. Be this your 
^eteiTnined and invariable aim. — Here, my affections, 
here give a loose to your whole ardor. Cry out in the 
language of inspiration, '' This one thing have I desired of 
the Lord, which wdth incessant earnestness, I will require; 
that I may dwell in the celestial house of the Lord, all 
the days of my future life, to behold the fair beauty of the 
Lord ;*'\ and to contemplate, with wonder and adoration — 
with unspeakable and everlasting rapture^ — all the attri- 
butes of the incomprehensible godhead. 

Solomon, a most penetrating judge of human natures 
knowing how^ mankind is charmed with the fine qurJities 
of flowers, has figured out the blessed Jesus, that, '' fair- 
est among ten thousand,^' by these lovely r- presentatives. 
He styles him ^* the Rose of Sharon,"§ and the Lily of the 
Valleys :"|| like the first, full of delights, and communi- 
cable graces, like the last, exalted in majesty, and com- 
plete in beauty. — In that sacred pastoral, he ranges the 
creation ; borrows its most finished forms ; and dips his 
pencil in its choicest dyes, to present us with a sketch of 
the amiableness of his person : his amiabieness, who is 
the light of the world; the glory of his church ; the on- 

• Isa. xxiv.23. 1 1 Jo^" hi. 2- 

I Psal. xxvii. 4. §lCant. ii,L 

Malus ut arboTibus decoriest, T3t vitibus uvaet 
Utque rcsse campis. ut liliavallibus alba, 
Sic Christusdecus omrie siiis.^ — 

fi By the ♦< lUy of the valleys/'* I apprehend, is meant, not the 
.flov er that commonly passes under that denonn'nation, and is com- 
paratively irean ; but the grand inajestic gaiden lily, growing ia 
a rich irriguous soil, where it flourishes in the mos- ample rranner, 
and arrives at the highest perfection The circumstance of the 
vallevs, added by the sacred writer, significant, not of the species, 
but of the place. — This is by far the ncblest interpretation and most 
exactly suirab'e to the spiritual sense ; which intimates that the 
blessed Je-u- del>gh^'= to dwell, b; he communication of his Spirit, 
in humble heurts.-^Lillium vallibus gaudens. 



ON A FLOWER-GAKDEN. 109 

ly hope, the sovereign consolation of sinners ; and exalt- 
ed, infinitely exalted, not only above the subliniest com- 
parison, but even " above all blessings and praise." — May 
I also make the same heavenly use of all sublunary enjoy- 
ments ! Whatever is pleasurable or charming below, let 
it raise my desires to those delectable objects, which are a* 
bove ; which will yield, not partial, but perfect felicity ; 
not transient, but never-ending, satisfaction and joy — Yes, 
my soul, let these beauties in miniature always remind 
thee of that glorious person, in whom *' dwells all the ful- 
ness of the godhead bodily." Let these little emanations 
teach thee to thirst after the eternal fountain. O ! may 
the creatu es be thy constant clue to the Creator ! For 
this is a C-^rtain truth, and deserves thy frequent recollec- 
tion, demands thy most attentive consideration, that the 
"Whole compass of finite perfection, is only a faint ray,* 
shot from the immense source : is only a small drop, de- 
rived from that inexhaustible ocean — of all good. 

What a surprising variety is observable among the flow- 
cry tribes! how has the bountiful hand of Providence di- 
versified these nicest pieces of his workmanship ! added 
the charms of an endless novelty, to all their other perfec- 
tions ! — A constant uniformity would soon lender the en- 
tertainment tiresome, or insipid ; theiefore eveiy species 
is formed on~ a separate plan, and exhibits so;?^^ing en- 
tirely new. The fashion spreads not from family to^m- 
ily : but every one has a mode of its own, ifhich is tr^ly 
original. The most cursory glance perceives an appfar- 
ent difference, as well as a peculiar delicacy, in the airs 
and habits, the attitudes and lineaments, of every distinct 
class. 

Some rear their heads with a majestic mien, and over- 
look like sovereigns or nobles, the whole parterre. Oth- 
ers seem more moderate in their aims, and advance only 
to the middle stations ; a genius turned for heraldry might 
term them the gentry of the border. While others, free 
from all aspiring vie vs, creep unambitiously on the 
ground, and look like the commonalty of the kind.— 



-Thou sltt'sr above allheav'tis, 



To us mvisibie, or diml - seen 

In rhe^e thy lowest works : yi^ these declare 

Thy goodness beyond thought, &nd pow er divine. 

Mih. b. r; 
K 



!10 B.EFLECTIONS 

Some are intersected with elegant stripes, or studded 
with radiant spots. Some affect to be genteelly powcier- 
cd, orneatly fringed ; while others are plain in their as- 
pect, unaffected in their dress, and content to please with 
a naked simplicity. Some assume the monarch's pur- 
ple ; some look most becoming in the virgin's white ; but 
black, doleful black, has no admittance, into the wardrobe 
of spring. The weeds of mourning would be a manifest 
indecorum, when nature holds an universal festival She 
should now inspire none but delightful ideas, and there- 
fore always make her appearance in some amiable suit*. 
• — Here stands a warrior, clad with crimson; there sits a 
magistrate, robed in scarlet ; and yonder struts a pretty 
fellow, that seems to have dipped his plumes in the rain- 
bow, and glitters in all the gay colors of that lespiendent 
arch. Some rise into a curious cup, or fall into a set 
of beautiful bells. Some spread themselves into a 
swellmg tuft, or croud into a delicious cluster. — In some, 
the predominant stain softens by the gentlest diminu- 
tion, till it ims even stole away from itself The eye 
is amused at the agreeable delusion ; and we wonder 
to find ourselves insensibly decoyed into a quite diiferent 
lustre. In others, you would think the fine tinges were 
emulous of pre-eminence. Disdaining to mingle, they 
confront one another with the resolution of rivals deter- 
Diined to dispute the prize of beauty ; while each is im- 
proved, by the opposition , into the highest vivacity of 
complexion. 

" How manifold are thy works, O Lord !"t multiplied 
even to a prodigy. Yet " in wisdom." consummate wis- 
dom, " hast thou made them all " — How I admire the 
vastness of the contrivance, and the exactness of the exe- 
cution ? Man, feeble man, with difficulty accomplishes a 
single work. Hardly, and after many efforts does he ar- 
rive at a tolerable imitation of some one production of na- 
ture. But the Almighty Artist spoke millions of sub- 
stances into instantaneous being; the whole collection 
wonderfully various, and each individual completely per- 
fect. — Repeated experiments generally, I might say al« 

,* Nune formosissimus annus.— r/r^. 

t Psa^' civ. 24. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEK. Ill 

ways, discover errors or defects in our happiest inven- 
tions. Nay, what wins our approbati n, at the present 
hour, or in this particular place, is very probably, in 
some remote period, or some distant clime treated witli 
contempt. Whereas, these fine structures have pleased 
every taste, in every country, tor almost six thousand 
years. Nor has any fault been detected in the original 
plan, nor any room left for the least improvement upon 
the first model*^ — All our performances, the more min- 
utely they aie scanned, the more imperfect they appear. 
Whh regard to these delicate objects, the more we search 
into their propertirf^s, the more we are ravished with their 
graces. They are sure to disclose fresh strokes of the 
most masterly skill, in proportion to the attention with 
which they are examined. 

Nor is the simplicity of the operation less astonishing, 
than the accuracy of the workmanship, or the infinitude of 
the effects. Should you ask, " Where and what are the 
materials which beautify the blooming world ? What 
rich tints, what splendid dyes, what stores of shhiing cray- 
ons, stand by the heavenly Limner, when he paints the 
robe of natui^e ?" *Tis answered. His powerful pencil 
needs no such costly apparatus. A sinorle principle, un- 
der his conducting hand, branches out into an immensity 
of the most varied, and most finished forms. The mois- 
ture of the earth and of the circumambient aii\ passed 
through proper strainers, and disposed in a range of pel- 
lucid tubes ; this performs all the wonders, and produ- 
ces all the beauties, of vegetation. This creeps along 
the fibres of the low-spread moss^ and climbs to the very 
tops of the lofty-waving cedars. This, attracted by the 
root, and circulating through invisible canals ; this bursts 
into gems, expands itself into leaves, and clothes the for- 
est with all its Verdant honors^ — This one,t plain and sim- 

* Eccles. iii. 14 **I know that whatsoever God doeth, it shall 
be forever : nothhig can be put to it, nor any thing taken from It.*' 

t *' When every several effect has a particular separate cause, 
this gives no pleasure to the spectator, as not discovering contri- 
vance But that work is beheld with admiration ar-.d delight, as 
the resuh of deep counsel which is complicated in its parts, and 
yet s!n:ple in is op't-ratjonu ; where a g''e^i variety of effects are 
seen to arise from one principle operating unifotnaU ' 

Abtrrxtby on the Attributes,' 



U^ REFLECTION^ 

pie cause, give birth to all the charms, which deck the 
youtli and maturity of the year. This blushes in the 
early hepatica, and flames into the late advancing poppy. 
This reddens into blood in the veins of the mulberry ; and 
attenuates itself into leaferi gold, to create a covering for 
the quince. This breathes in all the fragrant gales of our 
garden, and weeps odorous gum in the groves of Arabia. 
» — So wonderful is our Creator in counsel, and so excel- 
lent in working 1* 

In a grove of tulips, or a knot of pinks, one perceives a 
difference in almost every individual. Scarcely any two 
are tumed and tinctured exactly alike. Each allows 
himself a little particularity in his dress, though all belong 
to one family ; so that they are various and yet the same^ 
*— A pretty emblem is this of the smaller differences be- 
tween Protestant Christians. There are modes in reli- 
gion, which admit of variation, without prejudice to sound 
faith, or real holiness. Just as the drapery on these pic- 
tures of the spring, may be formed after a variety of pat- 
terns, without blemishing their beauty, or altering their 
nature.^ — Be it so then, that in some points of inconsidera- 
ble cons^^quence, several of our brethren dissent : yet let 
lis all live amicably and sociably together ; for we harmo- 
nize in principles though we vary in punctilios. Let us 
join in conversation, and intermingle interests; discover 
no estrangement of behaviour, and cherish no alienation 
of affection. If- any strife subsist, let it be to follow our 
divine Master most closely, in humility of heart, and un« 
blameableness of life. Let it be to serve one another 
most readily, in all the kind offices of a cordial friendship. 
Thus shall we be united, though distinguished ; united 
in the same grand fundamentak, though distinguished by 
some small circumstantials ; united in one important bond 
of brotherly love, though distinguished [by some slighter 
peculiarities of sentin;ent. 

Between Christians, whose judgments disagree only a« 
bout a form of prayer, or manner of worship, F apprehend, 
there is no more essential difference, than betweeij flowers 
which bloom from the same kind of seed, but happen to 
be somewhat diversified in the mixture of their colors.—- 
WhereaS; if one denies the divinity of our I^ordJ Jesus 

# Isa» x.xviii. 29. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 113 

Christ, and degrades the incarnate God to the meanness 
oi a mere creature ; if another cries up the worthiness of 
hum^n works, and depreciates the aloue-meiitcrious 
righteousDess of the glorious Mediator ; if a thira ad- 
dresses the incommunicable honors to a finite being, and 
bo'Asto the image, or prays to the saint— These aie er- 
rors extremely derogatory to the Rcceemer*s dignity, 
and not a little prejudicial to the comfort of his people. 
Against these to remonstrate ; against these to urge 
every argument, and use every dissuasive ; bespeaks not 
the censorious bigot, but the friend of truth, and the lover 
of mankind. — Whereas, to stand neuter and silent, while 
such principles are propagated, would be an instance of 
criminal remissness, rather than of Christian moderation. 
For the persons we will not fail to maintain a tender 
compassion ; we will not cease to put up earnest interces- 
sions ; wc will also acknowledge and love whatever is ex- 
cellent and amiable in their character. Yet we dare not 
subscribe their creed ; we must not secrete our strong 
reasons ; we cannot remit our assiduous, but kind en- 
deavors, if by any means we may reconcile them to a 
more scriptural belief, and a purer worship* 

Another remarkable circumstance, recommending and 
endearing the flowery creation, is their regular succession. 
They make not their appearance all at once, but in an or- 
derly rotation. While a proper number of these obligin,^^ 
retainers are in waiting, the others abscond ; but hold 
themselves in a posture of service, ready to take their 
turn, and fill each his respective station, the instant it be- 
comes vacant — The snow-drop, foremost of the lovely- 
train, breaks her way through the frozen soil, in order to 
present her early compliments to her Lord- Dressed in 
the robe of innocency, she steps forth, fearless of danger ; 

* In seme former editions, I expressed myself on this point un- 
warily and harshly. But my meaning and real sentiments, were 
no other than those represented above. 1 he reader, from such un- 
guarded intimations, might too naturally be led to conclude, that 
the author avcvvF, and would stir up a spirit of persecution. But 
this IS a method of dealing with opponents in religious doctrines, 
whch he disclaims, as absurd; and abhcrs, as iniquitous. He is 
for no fore e^ but that of rational conviction; for no constraint, but 
that ot affect: ona-e persuasions- Thus, if you plea5§; compel them 
to come in. Luke xiv. 23, ' ~ 

K 2 



114 REFLECTIONS 

long before the trees haw veniur* d to unfold their leave% 
even while the icicles are peuciaiit on our houses. — 'Next 
peeps out the crocus, but cautiously, and with an air ot ti- 
iriidity. She hears thi- howUng blasts, and skulks close to 
her low situation. Afraid she seems to make large ex- 
cursions from her root, while so many ruffian winds are 
abroad, and scouring along the aether — Nor is the violet 
last, in this shining embassy of the year ; which with all 
the embellishments that would grace a royal garden, con- 
descends to lirx our hedges, and grow at the feet of briers. 
Free])', and without any solicitation, she distributes the 
bounty of her emissive sweets : w^hile herself, with an ex- 
emplary humility, retires from the sight ; seeking rath- 
er to administer pleasure, than to win admiration.* 
Emblem, expressive emblem, of those modest virtues^ 
which delight to bloom in obscurity ; w^hich extend a 
cheering influence to multitudes, who are scarce acquaint- 
ed with the source of their comforts? Motive, engaging 
motive, to that ever-acting beneficence, which stays not 
for the importunity of the distressed, but anticipates their 
suit, and prevents them v/itli the blessings of its good- 
ness ! — ^Thepoor polyanthus, that lately adonied the bor- 
der with her sparkling beauties, and, transplanted into our 
•windows, gave us a fresh entertainment, is now no more. 
i saw her complexion fade ; 1 perceived her breath de- 
cay ; till at length she expired and dropt into her grave. 
—•Scarce have we sustained this loss, but in comes the 
auricula, and more than retrieves it. Arrayed she comes, 
in a splendid variety of amiable forms ; with an eye of 
crystal, and garments of the most glossy sattin ; exhaling 
perfurqe, and powdered with silver. A very dinstinguish- 
ed procession is this ! The favorite care of the floiist I 
Scarce one among them, but is dignified with a character 
of renown, or has the honor to represent some celeb ated 
toast. But these also, notwithstandhii^ their illustrious ti- 
tles, have exhausted their whole stock of fraerance, and 
are mingled with the meanest dust. — ^Who can forbear 
' grieving nt their departure, did not the tulips begin to 
raise themselves on their fine wands, or stately stalks ? 
They flnsh the parterre with one of the gayest dresses tliat 
blooining nature wears. Did ever beau or belle make so 

* Prcd^sse quam eonspici. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 115 

gaudy an appearance, in a birth-night suit ! Here one 
may behold the innocent wautonness of beauty. Here she 
indulges a thousand freaks, and sports herself in tne 
most charrain,;- diversity of colors. Yet I should wrong 
her, were 1 to call her a coquette ; because she play^ier 
lovely changes, not to enkindle dissolute affections, bffi: to 
display her Creator's glory. — Soon arises the anemone ; 
encircled at the bottom with a spreading robe, and round- 
ed at the top into a beautful dome. In its loosely-flowing 
mantle, you may observe a noble negligence ; in its gen- 
tly bending tufts, the nicest symmetry. I would term it 
the fine gentleman of the garden ; because it seems to 
have learned the singular address of uniting simplicity 
with refinement, of reconciling art and ease. — The same 
month has the merit of producing the ranunculus. All 
bold and graceful, it expands the riches of its foliage ; 
and acquires, by degrees, the loveliest enamel in the world. 
As persons of intrinsic worth disdain the superficial arts 
of recommendation, practised by fops ; so this lordly flow- 
er scorns to borrow any of its excellencies from powders 
and essences. It needs no such attractive s, to render it 
the darling of the curious; being sufficiently engaging 
from the elegance of its figure, the radiant variety of its 
tinges, and a certain superior dignity of aspect. Me- 
thinks nature improves in her operations. Her latest 
strokes are most masterly. To crown the collection, she 
introduces the carnation, which captivates every eye, 
wath a noble spread of graces ; and charms another sense, 
with a profusion of exquisite odors. This single flower 
has centered in itself, the perfections of all the preceding. 
The moment it appears, it so commands our attention, 
that we scarce regret the absence of the rest— The gllly- 
flovver, like a real friend, 'jttends you through all the vi- 
cissitudes and altei'ations of the season. While others 
make a transient visit oi>ly, this is rather an inhabitant, 
th^n a guest in your gardens ; and adds fidelity to com- 
plaisance. 

It is in vain to attempt a catalogue of these amiable 
gifts. There is an endless multiplicity in theii' chavac- 
t^ers, yet an invariable order in heir approaches. Every 
month, almost every week, has its peculiar ornaments ; 
not servilely onying the works of its predc^essor, but 
forming, still forming, and still executing some new de- 



U6 REFLECTIOKS 

sign. So lavish is the fancy, yet so exact is the process, 
of nature. 

Here let me stand a while, to contennplate this distri- 
bution of flowers, through the several periods of the year. 
— Were they ail to blossom together, there would be at 
once a promiscuous throng, and at once a total privation. 
We should scarce have an opportunity of adverting to the 
dainty quaUties of half; and must soon lose the agreeable 
company of them all. But now since every species has a 
separate post to occupy, and a distinct i.iterval for appear- 
ing, we can take a leisurely and minute survey of each 
succeeding set. We can view and review their forms : 
enter into a more intimate acquaintance with their char- 
ming accom lishments ; and receive all those pleasing 
services, which they are commissioned to yield. — This re- 
markable piece of ceeonomy, is productive of another ve- 
ry valuable effect. It not only places, in the most advan- 
tageous light, every particular community ; but is also 
a sure provisionary resource against the frailty of the 
whole nation. Or, to speak n>ore truly, it renders the 
flowery tribes a sort of *immortal corps. For though 
some are continually dropping ; yet by this expedient, 
others are as continually rising to beautify our borders, 
and prolong the entertainment. 

What goodness is this, to provide such a series of 
gratification for mankind ! both to diversify, and perpetu- 
ate the fine collation ! to take care, that our paths should 
be, in a manner, incessantly strewed with flowers ! — And 
what wisdom, to bid eveiy one of these insensible beings 
know the precise juncture for their coming forth! inso- 
much that no actor on a stage can be more exact in per- 
forming his part ; can make a more regular entry, or a 
move punctual exit. 

Who emboldens tHe dafrodil to venture abroad in Feb- 
ruary, and to trust her flowering gold with inclement and 
treacherous skies ? Wno informs the various tribes of 
fruit-beanng blossoms, that vernal suns, and a more ge- 
nial warmth, are fittest for their delicate texture ? Who 

* In allusion to the celebrated practice of the Persian kings ; 
** vvho nnainta'med for their life guard, a body of troops, called im- 
mertal ; because * perpetually oubsis-ed : for as soon as any of the 
mea died, another was immediacelv put in his place," 

jRoUivh Ancient History ^ vol, Tl« 



ox A FLOWER-GARDEN. 117 

teaches the clove to stay,, till hotter beams are prepared, 
to infuse a spicy richness into her odors, and tincture her 
complexion with the deepest crimson ? — Who disposes 
these beautiful troops into such orderly bodies, retarding 
some and accelerating^- others ? Who has instructed them 
to file off, with such perfect regularity, as soon as the du- 
ty of their respective station is over / And, when one de- 
tachment retires, who gives the signal for another imme- 
diately to advance ? Who, but that unerring Providence, 
which, from the highest thrones of angels, to the very 
lowest degrees of existence, orders all things in " num- 
ber, weight and measure !" 

These, O my soul, are the regulations of that most a- 
dorable, that most beneficent Bcirig, who bowed the hea- 
vens; came down to dwell on earth : and united the frail- 
ty of thy mortal nature, to all the glories of his Godhead. 
AH the honor of this admirable establishment belongs to 
thy Ransom, thy Surety, thy Saviour. To him it belongs, 
%vho sustained the vengeance, which thou hadst deserved, 
and wast doomed to suffer; who fulfilled the obedience, 
which thou wast obliged, but unable to perform ; and who 
humbled himself (stupendous, ineffable loving-kindness I) 
humbled himself to death, even the death of the cross. — 
He formed this vast machine, and adjusted its nicest de- 
pendencies. The pillars that support it, the embellish- 
ments that adorn it, and the laws that govern it, are the 
result of his unsear€h:tble counsels. O ! the heights of 
his majesty, and the depths of his abasement ! 

Which shall we admire most, his essential greatness, 
or his free grace ? He created the exalted seraph, that 
sings in glory ; and every the minutest insect, that flutters 
in the air, or crawls in dust. He marks out the path for 
all those globes of light, which travel the circuit of the 
skies ; and disdains rjCt to rear the violet from its lowly 
bed, or to plait the daisy which dresses our plains. So 
grand are his operations ; yet so condescending his re- 
gards I — If summer like a sparkling bride, is brilliant 
and glorious in her apparel ; what is this, but a feeble re- 
flection of his uncreated effulgence? If autumn, like a 
munificent host, opens her stores, and gives us all things 
richly to enjoy ; what is this, but a little taste of his inex- 
haustible hberality ? If thunders roar, you liear the sound 
Qf his trumpet ; if lightnings glare, you see the launching 



118 REFLECTIONS 

of his glittering spear : If '^ the perpetual hills be scatter- 
ed, and the everlasting mountains bowed," you benoicl a 
display ! — no, says the prophet, you have rather the hi- 
ding of his power.* So immense is his power, so un- 
controllable and inconceivable, that all these mighty 
"works are but a sketch, in which more is concealed than 
discovered. 

" Thus, I think, we should always view the visible sys- 
tem, with an evangelical telescope (if I may be allowed 
the expression) and with an evangelical miscroscope ; re- 
garding Christ Jesus as the great projector and architect, 
who planned and executed the amazing scheme. W/.at- 
ever is magnificent or valuable, tremendous or amiable, 
should ever be ascribed to the Redeemer. This is the 
Christian's natural philosophy. With regard to this me- 
thod of considering the thuigs that are seen, we have an 

* Hab. iii. 4. Ncth'ng can be more magnificently conceived 
than The innagery of this whole chapter ; and i.pon the foot of jur 
inre^pTe'anop. nothmg was ever mere delicately ard nob) turred, 
than :he sent-ment rf this clause O'her senses of the passage, I 
acknowledge mas be assigned with equal pr-.priety. But none, I 
think, ca): be imagined so majestic and «-ublime. As the onginal 
w^ill fairly admit of it as it carries no disagreement with the con- 
text ; and expresses a most important, as well as undoubted truth ; 
I hope 1 iv>ay be permitted to use it, at least by w ay of accommo- 
dation — Espec-'ally as it suggests one of the finest mottoes imagina- 
ble wherewith to inscribe all the visible pvcductions of the Crea- 
tor's hand When, struck wiih astonishment we consider their 
grandeu>, beauty^ and cor.summa'e perfections ; lei us, in jusiiee 
io their author, apply the exalted reflection of this sacreri ode ; •' In 
all 'hese is the hiding, rather than an adequate display, of his 
matchless power. Though they challenge our praise and surpass 
our comprehension ; yet the> are by no means the utmo&t exer- 
tions, but rather some slighter essaN s of omnipotent skill." — Milton, 
relatiiig the overthrow of the fai*en angels, introduces a grand 
circ.imsTance not much unlike the preceding. Me-siah, unaided 
and al':ne, had routed '->n innumerable host of apostate spirits. This 
was great and marvellous. Bur to create a juster idea of the illus- 
trious conqueror, our poet beautifully adds, 

Yet half his strength he put not forth ^ 

If we forget to uiake the same remarks, when we contemplate God 
in »M~ works ; w^e muf>^ necessarily form very scanty conceptions of 
that Supreme Be»ng before whom all nations are as a *' drop of a 
bucket, and are counted as the small dust of the balance.*' 



OS A TLOWER GARDEN. 1 i9 

inspired apostle for our p.e; eptor ai^d precedent. Speak- 
m^ ul Christ, he says, •• I'liuu, Lord, ia the begir-Mi g, 
hast laid the foundatiou of tne earth : and the hea ens .re 
the work of thy hands/' — Did we carefully attend to this 
leading principle, in all our examinatioiis of nature , it 
would, doubtless, be a most powerful means of enkhid- 
ling our love, and strengthening ou." faith.* Whe,. I 
look round upon raillions of jiobie substances, and carry 
with me this transporting refleition, ''The maker of 
them all expired Oi a cross for nie ; how can I remain 
any longer inditrerent? Must not the coldest heart begin 
to glow with gratitude :" — When I survey an imniensity 
of the finest producdons imaginable ; and remember that 
the author of them all is my righteousness '' and my re- 
demption ;" how can I chuse but repose the most cheerful 
confidence in such a Mediator ? 

Let me add one more remark, upon the admirable ad- 

* The apostle, I observe, delights to use this method of display, 
jng the honors of »he Redeemer, and re-estabLshing the faiih of his 
people, — The beloved disciple, teaching that most precious doct. 
»ine, ** of J^ l^amb slain to take away the sins of the woild ;'* in 
order to evince <he sufficiency of Christ's 'sacrifice for this blessed 
purpose, affirms, that ail things were made by him ; and wuhoiK 
him was not any thing, no, not so much a one single being inade- 
John, i 3— St. Paul preaching the same glad tid-.ngs to iheColos, 
sians, and expressly maintaining, that we have redemption through 
hifc bloody seems to foresee -m objection of this k'.nd. *' To expi- 
ate tran-'giessions against an infinite Majesty, is a m*ost prodigious 
act It miUst cost vastly more than any common surety can pay, to 
redeem a sinful world What reason have\ve to believe, tha' Jesus 
is equal to this m ghty undertaking ?*' All possible reason repl'es 
the apostle from the dignity of his person, for he is the image of 
the invi.- bU^ Grd . and from the greati,ess of his works, for by him 
ail things were luade Consider the operations of hi? haixls and 
you cannoT doubt ^he atoning effic cv of nis death. Col. i !.:>- 16 — 
The author of the epistle to rhe Hebrews, falls exactly into the same 
train of arguing Declaung that Christ Je us has purged our sins 
by ihe sacrifice of himself, he proves his ample ability for this tre^ 
niev.dous ofifinca, from his ersential excellence, because he is the 
brightness of his Father's glory ; and from his admirable works, 
because he made the worlds, and upholdeth all things by the word 
of hi^ power Heb. i. 2. S. — Which truth, as it is so iniportant in 
itself, of such signal comfort to Christians and so particularly in- 
sisted on by the inspired writers, I hope I shall need no apology for 
an a Tempt to illustrate and e^iforce it, in •. kind '»f evangelical Des« - 
cant upon Creation, annexed to these Reflections* 



120 REFLECTIONS 

justmentof every particular relating to these fine colo- 
nies planted in the parterre. — With such accuracy and 
correctness is their structure finished, that aiiy the least 
coQceivable alteration would very much impair their per- 
fection. Should you see, for instance, the nice disposi- 
tion of the tulip's attire fly abroad, disorderly, and irregu- 
lar, like a flaunting woodbine ; should the jessdmine rear 
her diminutive head, on those grand columns which sup- 
port the hoUihock ; should the erect and manly aspect of 
the pioay hang down v/ith a pensive air, like the flexile 
bells of the hyacinth ; should that noble plainness which 
distinguishes the lily, be exchanged for the glittering frin- 
ges which edge the pink, or the gaudy stains which be- 
drop the iris ; should those tapering pillars which arise 
in the middle of its vase, and, tipt with golden pendants, 
give such a lustre to the surrounding pannels of alabaster 
■—should those sink and disappear, like the chives which 
cover the heart of the anemone : In many of these cases, 
would not the transposition be fantastical and awkward ? 
■ — in all. to the apparent prejudic<^ of ever\' individual ? 

Again, with regard to the time of their appeai'ing, this 
circumstance is settled, by a remarkable foresight and pre- 
caution. What would become of the sailor, if, in very 
stormy weather, he should raise a lofty mast, and croud it 
with all his canvass ! Such would be the ill effect, if the 
most stately species of flowers should presume to come 
abroad* in the blustering months. Ah! how would they 
rue the imp udent boldness ! Therefore those only that 
shoot for the shortest stems, and display the smallest 
spread f leaves, or (if you please) carry the least sail, are 
launched amidst the blowing seasons. — How injudiciously 
would the perfumer act, if he should unseal his finest es- 
sences, and expose them to the noi-thern winds, or wir.try 
rains ! our blooming artists of the aromatic profession, at 
least the most delicate among tht^m, seem perfectlv aware 
of the consequences under such a proceedure. A-^cord- 
inelv thev postpone the opening of their odoriferous treas- 
ures, till a serener air,* and more unclouded skies, grant a 

* Casimer. in a very poetical manner adc^re'^ses bin'?elf -o >he 
dorrr\ant rose, and vro^i pret^iU" invites her to venture abroad^ b}V 
tht mention of these two. circumstances. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 121 

protection to their amiable traffic ; till they are under no 
more apprehensions oi having their spicy cells rifled by 
rude blasts, or dro^v^led in incessant showers. 

What a striking argument is here for resignation ; un- 
feigned resignation, to all the disposals of Providence ? 
Too often are our dissatisfied thoughts apt to find fault 
with divine dispensations. We tacitly arraign our Mak- 
er's conduct, or question his kindness with regard to our- 
selves. We fancy our lot not so commodiously situated, 
or our condition not so happily circumstanced, as if we had 
been placed in some other station of life.— But let us behold 
this exquisitely nice regulation of the minutest plants, and 
be ashamed of our repining folly. Could any fibre in their 
composition be altered, or one line in their features be 
transported, without clouding some of their beauties ? 
Could any fold in their vestments be varied, or any link in 
their orderly succession be broken, without injuring some 
delicate property ? And does not that All- seeing eye, 
which preserves so exact a harmony among these pretty 
toys, maintain as watchful a care over his rational crea- 
tures ? Does he chuse the properest season for the cow- 

Siderum sacros imitata vultus, 
Quid latesdudum, rosa ? delicatum 
EfFer e terns caput, O tepentis 

Filia coeh\ 

Jam tibi nubes fuglunt aquos;^ 

Quas fugant albis Zephyvi quadrigis ; 

Jam tibi mulcet Boream jocantis 

Aura Favonl* 

Child of the summer, charming rose, 

No longer in confinement lie; 
Arise to light ; thy form disclose; 

Rival the spangles of the sky. 

The rains are gone ; the stonns are o*er i 

Winter retires to make thee way : 
Come then, thou sweetly blushing flow'r : 

Come lovely stranger, come away. 

The sun is dress'd in beaming smiles, 

To give thy beauties to the day ; 
Young zephyrs wait, with gentlest gales^ 

To fan thy bosom, as they play. 



122 REFLECTIONS 

slip to arise, and drink the dews ? And can he neglect the 
concerns, or misjudge the conveniences, of his sons and 
daughters ? He, who has so completely disposed whatev- 
er pertains to the vegetable oeconomy, that the least di- 
aninution or addition would certainly hurt the finished 
scheme, does, without ail peradventure, preside, with e- 
qual attention, over the interests of his own people. 

Be still, then, thou uneasy mortal* ; know that God is 
unerringly wise ; and be assured, that, amidst the greatest 
multiplicity of beings he does not overlook thee. Thy Sa- 
viour has given me authority to assert, that thou art of far 
superior value, in the estimate of Omnipotence, than all 
the herbage of the field. — If his sacred will ordains sick- 
ness for thy portion, never dare to imagine, that uninter- 
rupted health would be more advantageous. If he pleas- 
es to withhold, or take away, children ; never presume to 
conclude, that thy happiness is blasted, because thy hopes 
of an increasing family are disappointed. He that mar- 
shals all the starry host, and so accurately arranges every 
the meanest species of herbs; he orders ail the peculiari- 
ties, all the changes of thy state, with a vigilance that noth- 
ing can elude, with a goodness that endureth for ever. 

Bow thy head, therefore, in humble acquiescence. Rest 
satisfied, that whatever is by the appointment of Heav- 
en,! is liglit, is best. 

^ Permittas ipsis expendere numinibus, quid 
Conveniat nobis, rebu-que sit utile rostris 
Nam pro jocundis aptissima quseque dabunt dii : 
Carioi estillis homo, quam sibi. — JUVc 

Since all vhe downward tracts of time 

God's waichful eye surveys: 
O ! whoso wise to choose our lot, 

And regulate our ways ? 

Since none can doubt his equal love, 

Un measurably kind. 
To his unerring, gracious will, 

Be ev'ry wish resigned. 

Good when he gives, supremely good; 

Nor less, when he denies ; 
E'en crosses, from his sovereign hand. 

Are blessings in disguise. 

t Whatever is, is right.^If Mr. Pope understands the maxim 



ON A FLOWEJR GARDEN. 123 

Among all the productions of the third creating day, 
this of flowers seems to be peculiarly designed for man. 
Man has the monopoly of this favor ; it is conferred on him 
by a sort of exclusive charter. See the imperial crown, 
splendid and beautifully grand ! See the tuberose, delicate 
and languishingly fair ! See all the pomp and glory of the 
parterre, where paint and perfume do wonders. Yet the 
inferior animals are neither suiit with their beauties, nor 
regaled with their odours. The horse never stands still to 
gaze upon their charms ; nor does the ox turn aside to 
browse upon their sweets. Senses they have to discern 
these curious objects in the gross, but no taste to distin- 
guish, or relish their fine accomplishments. — Just so car- 
nal and unenlightened men may understand the literal 
meaning of scripture, may comprehend the evidences of its 
divine inspiration ; yet have no relish of the heavenly truths 
it teaches, no ardent longing for the spiritual blessings it 
offers ; and see " no form or comeliness" in the Saviour 
it describes, so as to render him the supreme desire of their 
souls. 

Tne chief end of these beautiful appearances, philoso- 
phers say, is to enfold and cherish the embryo seed, or to 
swathe the tender body during its infant state. — But, what^ 
ever is the chief end of nature, 'tis certain, she never de- 
according to the limitation suggested above, he speaks a most un- 
deniable and glorious trurh. But if that g-eat poet includes what- 
ever come.> to pass, through the wild and extravagant passions of 
I men; surely no thinking person, at least no Christian, can accede 
to his opinion — What God orders, is w ise, beyond all possibility of 
correction ; and good, above all that we can ask or think. His 
decrees are the result of infinite discernment ; and his dispensations, 
the issues of unbounded benevolence — But man, fallen man, is 
hurried away, by his lusts, into a thousand irregularities ; which 
are deplorably evil in themselves, and attended with consequences 
manifestly pernicious to society .— Let the sentiment therefore, be 
restrained to the disposals of Heaven, and I most readily subscribe 
it. But, if it beexiended to the conduct of men, and the effects of 
"their folly ; I think myself obliged to enter my protest against it. 
For whatever kindles the divine indignation, — is cause of final ruin 
to the author, — is strictly forbidden by God's holy word, — is con- 
^^?^^'^^ the whole design of his revealed will, and the very reverse 
of his essential attributes ; this cannot possibly be right ; this is 
most undoubtedly wrong. Omnipotence, indeed, can over-rule it;^ 
and educe good from it ; but the very notion of over-ruling, suppo» 
ses it to be absolutely wrong itself. 



124 REFLECTIONS 

;/ats from the design of administering delight to mankind.* 

This is inseparably connected with her other views. 

Were it only to secure a reproductive principle, what need 
of such elegant complications ? Why so much art employ- 
ed, and so many decorations added ? Why should vest- 
ments be prepared, richer than brocades, more delicate 
than lawns, and of a finer glow than the most admired vel- 
vets ? — If the great mother had no other aim than barely 
to accommodate her offspring, warm flannel, or homely 
fustian would have served her turn ; served it full as well 
as the most sumptuous tissues, or all the furniture of the 
mercer's shop. 

Evident then it is, that flowers v/ere endued with such 
inchanting graces for the pleasure of man. In pursu- 
ance of this original intention, they have always paid 
their court to the human race ; they still seem particu- 
larly solicitous of recommending themselves to our re- 
gard. The finest of each species croud about our habita- 
tions, and are rarely to be seen at a distance from our a- 
])odes. They thrive under our cultivating hand, and ob- 
serving eye ; but degenerate, and pine away, if unregar- 
ded by their Lord. To win his attention, and deck his 
retreats, they hide tlieir deformities under ground ;. and 
display nothing but the most graceful forms, and enga- 
ging colors to his sight — To merit a fPxrther degree of 
liis esteem, the generality oi them dispense a delightful 
perfume. What is still more obliging, they reserve their 
richest exhalations,! to embalm his morning and evening 
walks4 Because he usually chooses those cool hours to 

* «' We find, that the most important parts in the vegetable world, 
are those which are the most beautiful. These -are the seeds by 
which the several races of plants are propagated and continued, and 
which aie always lodged in flowers or blossoms. Nature seems to 
hide her prirxipal design^ and to be industrious in making the earth 
gay and delightful, while she is carrying on the great work, and in- 
tent upon her own preservation.*' Sped, vol, F, N'o^ o8r. 

f The flowers, 

That opening now their choicest bosom'd smells, 
Reserv d from night, and kept for thee in store. -^Milton. 

\ The twining jesmine, and the blushing rose. 
With lavish grace their morning- scents disclose ; 
The smelling tub'rose and jonquil declare 
The stronger impulse of an evening air— Pr/c?rV SaL 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 135 

recreate himself among their blooming ranks : therefore, 
at those hours, they are most lavish of their fragrance, 
and breathe out their choicest spirits. 

G man, greatly beloved by thy Creator ! the darling 
of Providence ! thou art distinguished by his goodness ; 
distinguish thyself also by thy gratitude. Be it thy one 
undivided aim to glorify him, who has been at so much 
expense to gratify thee ! — While ail these inferior crea- 
tures, in silent eloquence, declare the glory of God, do 
thou lend them thy tongue. Be thou the high priest of 
the mute creation. Let their praises become vocal in thy 
songs, — Adore the Supreme Benefactor, for the blessings 
he showers down upon every order of beings. Adore 
him for numberless mercies, which are appropriated to 
thyself. But, above all, adore him for that noble gift of a 
rational and immortal soul. — This constitutes us masters 
of the globe, and gives us the real enjoyment of its riches. 
This discovers ten thousand beauties, which otherwise 
had been lost ; and renders them both a source of de- 
lights and a nursery of devotion. — By virtue of this exal- 
ted principle, we are qualified to exalt our Maker's 
works, and capable of bearing his illustrious image ; bear- 
ing his illustrious image, not only when these ornaments 
of the ground have resigned their honors, but when the 
great origin of day is extinguished in the skies, and all 
the flaming orbs on high are put out in obscure darkness 
— Then to survive, to survive the ruins of one w^orld, and 
to enjoy God, — to resemble God, — to be " filled with all 
the fullness of God," in another ; — ^vhat a happiness, what 
an inestimable happiness, is this ! Yet this is thy privilege 
(barter it not for trifles of an hour !) this thy glorious pre-» 
rogative, O man ! 

O ! the goodness, the exuberant goodness, of our God ! 
I cannot forbear celebrating it once more, before I pass to 
another consideration. — How nuich should we think our- 
selves obliged to a generous friend, who should build a 
stately edifice,* purely for our abode ! But how greatly 

* I cannot persuade myself, that the comparison is p'-retched be- 
vond proper bounds, when carried to this pitch. It is my steadfast 
opinion, that the world, at least this lower world, with its various 
appurtenances, was intended purely for man ; that it is appropriated 
to him I and that he (in subordination to God's glory) is the end of 
rs creation . Other animals, it is tru?^, partake of the Creator's ben- 
L.2 



126 



REFLECTIONS 



would the obligation be increased, if the hand that built 
should also furnish it ! and not only furnish it with all that 
is commodious and comfortable, but ornament it also with 

efits : But then they partake under the notion of man's domestics, 
or on the foot of retainers to him ; as creatures which bear some re- 
latior: to his service, and some way or other contribute to hrs good. 
So that still he is the centre of the whole; or as our incomparable 
Milton, equally master of poetry and divinity, expresses himself. 
All things live for man. Par. Lost, b. xi. lin. 161. 

Mr- Pope in his Ethic Epistles, is pleased to explode this tenet, as 
the height of pride, and a gross absurdity. For my part, 1 see no 
reason for such a charge. With all submission to so superior a genius, 
it seems very remote from pride, to be duly sensible of favors vouch- 
safed ; to contemplate them in all the extent of their munificence, and 
accordingly I should rather imagine that to contract their size when " 
they are immensely large; to stint their number, when they are al- 
together innumerable : that such a procedure savours more of insen- 
sibility, than our hypothesis of presumption ; and has more in it of 
ingratitude, than that of arrogance. 

And how can it be deemed an absurdity, to maintain that God 
gave us a world for our possession, when it is our duty to believe, 
that he gave us his only Son for our propitiation ? Sure, it can be 
neither difficult, nor extravagant, to suppose, that he designed the 
habitable globe, with its whole furniture, for our present use ; since 
he withheld not his holy child Jesus, but finally delivered him up, 
for our final salvation. 

Upon the whole I cannot but conclude, that the attempt of our fa- 
atious poet is neither kind with regard to his fellow- creatures — nor 
grateful, with regard to his Creator ; neither is his scheme, in fact, 
true. The attempt not kind w ith regard to man, because it robs him 
of one of the most delightful and ravishing contemplations imagin- 
able. To consider the great Author of existence as having me in 
his eye, when he formed sniversal nature ; as contriving all things 
with an immediate view to the exigencies of my particular state ; 
and making them all in such a manner, as might be most conducive 
ot my particular advantage ; this niust occasion the strongest satis- 
factions, whenever I casi a glance on the objects that surround me i 
Not grateful, with regard to Gcd; because it has the most direct 
tendency to diminish our sense of his kindness, and by that means 
to throw a damp upon our gratitude- It teaches us to look upon 
ourselves as almost lost among a crowd of other beings, or regarded ' 
ouly with an occasional and incidental beneficence ; which must cer- 
tainly weaken the disposition, and indeed slacken the ties, to the 
jnost adoring thankfulness. To which I apprehend, we may just- 
ly add, Neither is the scheme, in fact true For, not to mention what 
might be urged from the sure word of revelation, this one argument 
appears sufficiently conclusive. The world began with roan; the 
world must cease with man ; consequently, the grand use, the prin- 
cipal end gf the world, is, to subserve the interest of m^n, It is or. 



. ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 127 

whatever is splendid and delightful ! This has our most 
indulgent Creator done, in a manner infinitely surpassing 
ail we could wish or imagme. 

The earth is assigned us for a dwelling. — The skies are 
stretched over us like a magnificent canopy, dyed in the 
purest azure ; and beautified, now with pictures of float- 
ing silver, now with colorings of reflecting crimson. — ^The 
grass is spread under us, as a spacious carpet ; wove with 
silken threads of green, and damasked with flowers of 
every hue. — The sun, like a golden lamp, is hung out in 
the etherial vault ; and pours his eff'ulgence, all the day, 
to lighten our paths. — When night approaches, the moon 
takes up the friendly office ; and the stag's are kindled in 
twinkling myriads, to cheer the darkness with their milder 
lustrcj not disturb our i-epose by too intense a glare. — The 
clouds, besides the rich paintings they hang around the 
heavens, act the part of a shifting screen, and defend us, 
by their seasonable interposition, from the scorching beams 
of Summer. May we not also regard them, as the great 
watering-pots of the globe ; which, wafted on the wings 
of the wind, dispense their moisture evenly through the 
universal garden ;* and fructify with theii: showers, what- 

all sides agreed, that the edifice was erected, when man was to be 
:, furnished with an habitation ; and that it will be demolished, when 
t man has no farther need of its accommodations. When he enters 
' into the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, " the 

earth, and all the works that aie therein, shall be burnt up." From 

which it seems a very obvious and fair deduction, that man is the 

final cause of this inferior creation. 

So that I think my readers and myself privileged (not to say on 

the principles of gratitude, obliged) to use those lovely lines of our 

author, with a propriety and truth equal to their elegance and 

beauty; 

For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, 
Suckles each herb and spreads out ev'ry flow'r! 
Annual, for me, the grape, the rose renew 
The juice necrarious, and the balmy dew ; 
For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings ; 
For me, health gushes from a thousand springs. 

Eih. Ep. I. ver. 129, 

* This circumstance, amidst abundance of other delicate and ed- 
ifying remarks upon the wonders of Nature, is finely touched m the 
philosophical transa'itionsKcoided in the book of Job, chap, xxxvxii. 



128 



REFLECTIONS 



ever our hand plants. — The fields are our exhaustless 
granary. — The ocean is our vast reservoir. — The animals 
spend their strength, to dispatch oar business ; resign their 
clothnig, to replenish our wardrobe ; and surrender their 
very lives, to provide for our tables. — In short, every ele- ■ 
ment is a store-house of conveniences ; every season 
brings as the choicest productions ; all nature is our caterer. 
«— And, which is a most endearing recommendation of 
these favors, they are all as lovely as they are useful. You 
observe nothing mean or inelegant. All is clad in beauty's 
fairest robe,* and regulated by proportion's nicest rule. 
The whole scene exhibits a fund of pleasures to the im- 
agination, at the same time that it more than supplies all 
our wants t 

Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man ! v/hosoever 
thou art, that rebellest against thy Maker. He surrouods 
thee with unnumbered benefits, and follows thee with an 

ver. 15. '* Who hath divided a water-course for the overflowing 
of waters ? 

The Hebrew is so pregnant and rich with sense, that no transla- 
tion can do it justice The foBowing paraphrase, pe;haps, niay rep- 
resent the principal ideas comprehended in the expressive original--— 
Who has branched out, and with adnr\irable judgment disposed a 
variety of aqueducts, for tha: imnnense collection of waters which 
float in the skv ? Who distributes those pendulous floods through all 
the borders of the earth r distributes them, not in dreadful cataracts, 
or promiscuous gluts of rain, but in kindlv drops, and refreshing 
showers; with as much regularity and oeconomy, as if they were 
conveyed by pipes from a conduit ? To whom shall we ascribe that 
niceness of contrivance, v/hich now emits, now restrains them ; 
sometimes drives their humid train to one place, sometimes to an- 
other i dispenses them to this soil in larger, to that in smaller com- 
munications; and, hi a word, so manages the mighty fluid, that 
t\try spot is supplied, in exact proportion to its wants ; none des- 
troyed by an nndistingu.shin^ deluge ? 

• Perhaps it was from such an observation, that the Greeks, those 
critical and refined judges of things, expressed the mundane system 
hy a word, which signifies beauty. 

t ^* Those several living creatures, which are made for our service 
or sustenance, at the sam.e time either fill the woods with their mu- 
sic, furnish us with game, or raise pleasing ideas in us by the delight- 
fulness of their appearance. Fountains, lakes, and rivers, are as re- 
freshing to the imaginjition, 5^s to thesoH through which4:hey pass." 

SpecwooU V. Ko,3S7, 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 129 

effusion of the richest, noblest gifts. He courts thy affec- 
tions he solicits thy gratitude, by liberalities which are 
never intermitted, by a boULty which knows no limits. — 
Most blessed Lord, let this thy goodness, thy unwearied 
goodness, lead us to repentance. Win us to thyself, thou 
fountain of felicity, by these sweet inducements. Draw us 
to our duty, thou God of our salvation, by these ^' cords 
of love." 

What a lively picture is here of the beneficial effects of 
industry ! By industry aiid cultivation, this neat -spot is an 
image of Eden. Here is all that can entertain the eye, or 
legale the smell.* Whereas, without cultivation, this 
sweet garden had been a desolate wilderness. Vile this- 
tles had made it loathsome, aiid tangling briers inaccessi- 
ble. Without cultivation, it might have been a nest for 
serpents, and the horrid haunt cf venomous creatures. 
But the spade and pruning knife, in the hand of industry, 
have improved it into a sort of terrestrial paradise. 

How naturally does this lead our contemplation to thie 
advantages which flow from a vntuous education, and the 
miseries which ensue from the neglect of it 't — The mind, 
without early instruction, 'vvili, in all probability, become 
like the " vineyard of the sluggard/' If left to the pro- 
pensities of its own depraved wili, w4iat can we expect, 
but the most luxuriant growth of unruly ap;)etites, which, 
in time, will break forth into all manner of scandalous ir- 
regularities ? What ! — but tjiat anger, like a prickiy thorn, 
ai*m the temper w4th an untractable mofoseness ; peevish- 
ness, like a stinging nettle, render the conversation irk- 
som.e and forbidding; avarice, like some choking weed, 
teach the fingers tj gripe, and the hands to oppress ; re- 
venge, like some poisonous plant, replete with baneful 
juices, rankle in the breast, and meditate mischief to its 
neighbor : while unbridled lusts, like swarms of noisome 
insects, taint each rising thought ! and render " every im- 
agination of the heart, only evil continually."- — Such are 
the usual products of savage nature I such the furniture 
of the uncultivated soul ! 

Whereas, let the mind be put under the " nurture and 
admonition of the Lord ;" let holy disciDline clear the soil ; 
let sacred instructions sow it with the best seed ; let skill 

* Omnis copia narium. ■■ Hjk. 

tNeglectis urenda filix innascitur agris, Hor, 



130 REFLECTIONS 

and vigilance dress the rising shoots, direct the young i- 
deas how to spread, the wayward passions how to move : 
— Then, what a different state of the inner man will 
quickly take place 1 Charity v/ill breathe her sweets, and 
Hope expand her blossoms ? the personal virtues display 
their graces, and the social ones their fruits ;* the senti- 
ments become generous, the carriage endearing, the life 
honorable and useful.f 

O ! that governors of families, and masters of schools, 
would watch, with a conscientious solicitude, over the mor- 
als of their tender charge ! what pity it is, that the advan- 
cing generation should lose these invaluable endowments, 
through any supineness of their instructors !~See ! with 
what assiduity the curious florist attends his little nursery I 
He visits them early and late ; furnishes" them with the 
properest mold ; supplies them with seasonable moisture; 
guards them trom the ravages of insects; screens them 
from the injuries of the weather ; marks their springing 
buds; observes them attentively, through their whole 
progress; and never intermits his anxiety, till he beholds 
them blovv^n into full perfection. — And shall a range of 
painted leaves, which flourish to-day and to-morrow fall 
to the ground ; — shall these be tended with more zealous 
application, t.^.an the exalted faculties of an immortal soul ? 
Yet trust not in cultivation alone. It is the blessing 
oi the Almighty ^Husbandman which iir.parts success to 
such labors of love. If God " seal up the bottles of heav- 
en,'^ and *' coniinand the clouds to withhold tkeir fatness, 
the best manured plot becomes a barren desert. And if 

* ThistrayisformatiGn of the heart- and renewal of the life, arerepre- 
sented^in scripture by shniUtiides 'oery nearly aliied to the ijnages used 
above,' GoU. by his sanctifying Spirit. idHI 'inake the soul afi a luater- 
ed garden Under the optr avion ofihis dimne principle, the desert shall 
rejoice , and blossom as the rose Wherever it exerts the refining and 
ennobling energy, '■ instead of the thtrn^ shall come up the fir tree ; and 
instead of the brier f the Qnyrtle tree .' yer. xxxi. 12. Isa. xxxv. 1. 
andlv^ 13. 

t ^ teneris assuescere tanti est / — ^ Virg. 

1'be principles vi§ imbibe and the habits vie contract, in our early years ^ 
are not matters of small tnoment but of the utmost consequence iTtiag. 
inable. 7 hey not only give a transient or superficial tincture to ourfrst 
appearance in life, but inost commonly &tamptheformofour wbolefit- 
ture conduct^ and even of our eternal state. 



ON A FLOWER GARDEN. 131 

he restrain the dew of his heavenly benediction, all human 
endeavors miscarry ; the rational plantation languishes ; 
our most pregnant hopes, from youths of the most promis- 
ing genius, prove abortive. '' Their root will be as rot- 
tenness, and their blossom will go up as dust."* — There- 
fore let parents plant ; let tutors water ; but let both look 
up to the Father of spirits, for the desired increase. 

On every side I espy several budding flowers. As 
yet they are like bails of cloth from the packer's ware- 
house. Each is wrapt within a strong inclosure, and its 
contents are tied together by the firmest bandages ; so 
that all their beauties lie concealed, and all their sweets 
are locked up—Just such is the niggardly wretch, whose 
nims are all turned inward, and meanly terminated upon 
himself; who makes his own private interests, or person- 
al pleasures, the sole centre of his designs, and the scanty 
circumference of his actions. 

Ere long the searching beams will open these silken 
folds, and draw them into a graceful expansion. Then 
what a lovely blush will glow in their cheeks ; and what 
a balmy odour exhale from their bosoms ! — So, when di- 
vine grace shines upon the mind, even the churl becomes 
bountiful ; the heart of stone is taken away ; and a heart 
of flesh, a heart susceptible of the softest, most compas- 
sionate emotions, is introduced in its stead. O ! how 
sweetly do the social affections dilate themselves, under so 
benign an influence ! just like these disclosing gems, un- 
der the powerful eye of day. The tender regards are no 
longer confined to a single object, but extend themselves 
into a generous concern for mankind, and shed liberal re- 
freshments on all within their reach.f 

* Isa, x>, 24. 

t The JiYofihet describing the charitable temfier^very 
beautifully say s^if thou draiv out thy soul to the hungry ! 
~This^ Ithinh^may not imfirofterly be illustrated by the 
circumstances observed above. The ofiening of those buds 
into a large and extensive spread^ is a firetty portrait of 
the amfilitude of a generous heart ; which cannot shut ufi 
its compassions^ or remain unconcerned at any human ca^ 
lamity. Thefreeness and copiousness^ with which the ex* 
panded flowers are continually pouring out their choicest 



132 REFLECTIONS 

Arise then^ thou Sun of righteousness; arise, with hea- 
ling under thy wings ; and transfuse thy gentle, but pene- 
trating ray, through all our intellectual powers? Enlarge 
every narrow disposition, and fill us with a diifusive be- 
nevolence. Make room in our breasts for the whole hu- 
man race ; and t^ach us to love all our fellows-creatures, 
for their amiable Creator's sake. May we be pleased 
with their excellencies, and rejoice in their happiness ; 
'but feel their miseries as our own, and, with a brother's 
sympathy, hasten to relieve them ! 

Disposed at proper distances, I observe a range of 
strong and stately stalks. They stand like towers along 
the walls of a fortified city; or rise, like lofty spires, a- 
midst the group of houses. They paft, at the top, into 
several pensile spiky pods ; from each of which we shall 
soon see a fine figure displaying itself; rounded into a 
form, which constitutes a perfect circle ; spread wide o- 
pen, into the most frank and communicative air ; and 
tinged with the color, which is so peculiarly captivating 
to the miser's eye. 

But the property I chiefly admire, is its passionate 
fondness for the sun. When the evening shades take 
place, the poor flower droops, and folds up its leaves. It 
mourns all night and pines amidst the gloom, like some 
forlorn lover, banished from the object of his affections. 
No sooner does Providence open '• the eye-lids of the 
morning," but it meets and welcomes the returning 
light ;* courts and caresses it; all the day ; nor ever loses 
sight of the refulgent charmer* so long as he continues a- 
bove the horizon. — In the morning you may perceive it 
representing a goldc n bosom to the East ; 3t noon, it 
pohits upwards to the middle sky : in the evening, it fol- 
lows the same attractive influence to the West. 

essences^ may r e fire sent the various acts of an unwearied 
liberality ; together with those endearing nvords^ and that 
cordial affection^ which embabn^ as it were^ a gift^ double 
its value ; and constitute %vhat the sacred penman style^^ 
Drawing out the souL Dtfirompseris animam tuam, Isa, 
hiii. 10. 

* ■' jj H Jlla suum^ qnamvis radice tenetuVf 
^ Vertituv ad sokm ■ ■ ■ " Ovid. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 133 

Surely, Nature is a book, and every page rich with sa- 
cred hints. To an attentive mind, the garden turns prea- 
cher, and its blooming tenants are so many lively sermons. 
What an engaging pattern, and what an excellent lesson 
have we here ' — So, let the redeemed of the Lord look 
unto Jesus,* and be conformed to their beloved. Let us 
all be Heliotropes (if I may use the expression) to the 
Sun of righteousness. Let our passions rise and fail ; 
take this course or that ; as his word determines, as his 
holy example guides. Let us be so accommodated, both 
to his commanding and providential will, as the wax is 
turned to the imprinted seal ; or as the aspect of this e- 
namoured flower, to the splendid star, which creates our 
day. 

In every enjoyment, O thou watchful Christian, look 
unto Jesus ; receive, it as proceeding from his love, and 
purchased by his agonies. f — In every tribulation look un- 
to Jesus ; mark his gracious hand, managing the scourge, 
or mingling the bitter cup : attempering it to a proper 
degree of severity ; adjusting the time of its continuance ; 
and ready to make these seeming disasters productive of 
real good. — In every infirmity and failing, look unto Je- 
sus, thy merciful High Priest, pleading his atoning blood, 
and making intercession for transgressors. — In every pray- 
er look unto Jesus, thy prevailing Advocate, recommen- 
ding thy devotions, and " bearing the iniquity of thy holy 
things. ":t — ^^ every temptation look unto Jesus, the Au- 
thor of thy strength, and Captain of thy salvation ; who 
alone is able to lift up the hands which hang down, to hi- 
vigorate the enfeebled knees, and make thee more than 
conqueror over all thy enemies. — But especially, when 
the hour of thy departure approaches ; when '' thy flesh 
and thy heart fail ;" when all the springs of life are irre- 
'^arably breaking ; then look unto Jesus with a belier^ 

* Heb xii. 2. 

t He sunk beneath our heavy woes. 

To raise us to his throne : 
There's not a gift his hand bestows. 

But cost his heart a groan, ■ Watti» 

^Exod, xxviii. 38 • * 

M 



134 



REFLECTIONS 



ing eye.* Like expiring Stephen, behold him standing 
at the right hand of God. on purpose to succour ! is peo- 
ple, in this their last extremity. Yes, my Christian 
friend ; when thy journey through life is finished, and 
thou art arrived on the very verge of mortahty ; when 
thou art just launching out into the invisible world, and 
all before thee is vast eternity ; — then, O then, be sure to 
look steadfastly unto Jesus ! " See by faith the Lord's 
Christ/' View him as the only Way,t to the everlast-* 
ing mansions ; as the only Doot,| to the abodes of bliss. 

Yonder tree, which faces the South, has something too 
remarkable to pass without observation. — Like the fruit- 
ful, though feeble vine, she brirtgs forth a large quantity of 
branches ; but unable to support them herself, commits 
them to the tuition of a sunny wall. As yet the tender 
twigs have scarce gemmed their future blossoms. How- 
ever, I may anticipate the well known productions, and 
picture to myself the passion-flower ; which will, in due 
time, with a long and copious succession, adorn the 
boughs. 

I have read in a Latin author, of flowers inscribed with 
the names of kings :| I but here is one emblazoned with the 
marks of the bleeding Prince of life. I read, in the inspir- 
ed writings, of apostolic men, who bore about in their bo- 
dies, the dying of the Lord Jesus :§ but here is a bloom- 
ing religioso, that carries apparent memorials of the same 
tremendous and fatal catastrophe. — Who would have ex- 
pected to find such a tragedy of woe exhibited in a collec- 
tion of the most delicate delights? or to see Calvary's hor- 
rid scene portrayed on the softest ornaments of the garden ? 
Is nature then actuated by the noble ambition of paying 
commemorative honors to her agonizing Sovereign ? Is 
she kindly officious to remind forgetful mortals of that mi- 
racle of mercy, which it is their duty to contemplate, and 
their happiness to believe ?— Or, is a sportive imagina- 

* Look unto mc, aiid be ye saved, all the ends of the earth, Isa. 
xlv» 22. 



f John xiv. 6. 



X John X. 9, 



II Die, quibus in terns inscripti nomina regum 
Nascantur fiores ?•••— F/r^» 

§2C0T. iv.lO. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN, 135 

tion my interpreter : and all the supposed resemblance no 
more than the precarious gloss of fancy ? Be it so : Yet 
even fancy has her merit, when she sets forth, in such 
pleasing imagery, the crucified Jesus. Nor shall I re- 
fuse a willing regard to imagination herself, when she 
employs her creadve powers to revive the sense of such 
unparalleled love, and prompt my gratitude to so divine 
a friend. 

That spiral tendril, arising from the bottom of the stalk ; 
is it a representation of the scourge, which lashed the Re- 
deemer's unspotted flesh; and inflicted those stripes, by 
which our souls are healed ? Or, is it twisted for the cord, 
which bound his hands in painful and ignominious confine- 
ment ? those beneficent hands, which were incessantly 
stretched out t(5 unloose the heavy burdens, and to impart 
blessings of every choice kind ? Behold the nails, which 
were drenched in his sacred veins, and rivetted his feet to 
the accursed tree ; those beautiful * feet, which always 
went about doing good ; and travelled far and near, to 
spread the glad tidings of everlasting salvation. — See the 
hammer, ponderous and massy, which drove the rugged 
irons through the shivering nerves ; and forced a passage 
for those dreadful wedges, between the dislocated bones. 
— View the thorns, which incircled our Royal Master's 
brow, and shot their keen afflictive points into his blessed 
liead. O the smart I the racking smart ! when, instead 
"bf the triumphal laurel or the odoriferous garland, that 
pungent and ragged wreath was planted on the meek 
Messiah's forehead! when violent and barbarous blows of 
the strong Eastern cane, fstruck the prickly crown, and 
fixed every thorn deep in his throbbing temples !| — . 

* How beautiful are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, 
that publisheth peace, that bringethgood tidings of good, that pub- 
lisheth- salvation ! ' Isa. iii, 7. ' 

t They took up a reed, (says the sacred historian)^ and snaotehfra 
on the head; *' and so^ as it were, naiJed down the thorns into his 
forehead, and temples,, and occasioned thereby exquisite pain, as 
well as a great effusion of blood " Family expositor, vol. II. sect. 
188* — *♦ It is most probable," adds the same judicious critic* "this 
was a walking staff, which they put into his hand as a sceptre ; for 
a blow with a slight reed would scarce have been felt» or have de*- 
served a mention in a detail ot such dreadful sufferings." 

J The Eiyiart attending this unparalleled piece cf contempt and 



136 



kEFLEGTiONS 



There stand the disciples, ranged in the green impale^ 
ment, and forming a circle round the instruments of their 
great Commander's death. They appear like so many 
faithful adherents, who breathe a gallant resolution, either 
of defending their Lord to the last extremity, or of drop- 
ping honorably by his side. But did they give such 
proofs of zeal and fidelity in their conduct, as their steady 
posture, and determined aspect, seem to promise ? Alas ! 
wb^t is all human firmness, when destitute of succours 
from above, but an expiring vapor ? What is every saint, 
if unsupported by powerful grace, but an abandoned trai- 
tor ? — Observe the glory, delineated in double rays, grand 
with imperial purple, and rich with sethereal blue. But 
ah ! how incapable are threads, though spun by Sum- 
mer's finest hand, though dyed in snows, or dipped in 
heaven, to display the immaculate excellency of his hu- 
man, or the ineffable majesty of his divine nature! Com- 
pared vriih these sublime perfections, the m.ost vivid as- 
semblage of colors fades into an unmeaning flatness ; the 
most charming effects of light and shade are not only 
mere daubings, but an absolute blank. 

Among all the beauties which shine in sunny robes, and 
sip the silver dews, this, I thinks has the noblest import, if 
not the finest presence. Were they all to pass in review, 
and expect the award of superiority from my decision, I 
^ should not hesitate a moment. Be the prize assigned to 
this amiable candidate, which has so eminently distin- 
guished, and so highly dignified herself, by bearing such a 
lemarkable resemblance to '\ the rightecus Branch; the 
Plant of Renown.*'* While others appoint it a place in 
the parterre, I would transplant the passion-flower, oi' 
rather transfer its sacred significancy, to my heart. There 

baibarity, must be inexpressiblv severe ; not only on scccunt of the 
imany painful punctures made in the flesh, but principally, because 
the periosteum, and exquisitely sensible tegument of the bones, ly- 
ing, in those parts, very near the external skin must receive a mul- 
titude of terrible wounds : the anguish of which could not fail of be- 
ing inflamed to an excess of rage, by the continuance of so many 
thorny lancets in that extremely tender membrane ; which, in such 
a case, 

—tremblingly alive all o'er, 
Must smart and agonize at every pore, 

* So the blessed Jesus is described, Jer, xxiii. 5. Ezek xxxiv. 2^. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN, 13? 

^let it bloom, both in Summer and in Winter ; bloom in 
- the most impressive chaiacters, and with an undecaying 
, lustre : That 1 also may wear, — wear on my very houl, 
/ the traces of immanuel, pierced for my sini, and bruised 
' for my transgresbions : That I also niay be crucified with 
Xhiistj* at least in penitential remorse, and affectioirate 
sympathy : That I may know the fellowship of his suffer- 
ings ;t and feel ail my evil affections, wounded by his ag- 
onies, mortified by his death. 

. Tnere is another subject of the verdant kingdom, 
which, on account of its very uncommon qualities, de- 
mands my particular notice : One, so extremely diffident 
in her disposition, and delicate in her constitution, that she 
dares not venture herself abroad in the open air, but is 
nursed up in the warmth of a hot bed, and lives cloistered 
in the cells of a green-house. But the most curious pe- 
culiarity is, that, of all her kindred species, she alone par- 
takes of perceptive life ; at least advances nearest to this 
more exalted state of being, and may be looked upon as 
the link which connects the animal and vegetable world. 
A stranger, observing her motions, would almost be in- 
duced to suspect, that she is endued with some inferior 
degrees of consciousness and caution. For, if you offer 
to handle this sensitive plant, she immediately takes an a- 
larm ; hastily contracts her fibres : and, like a person un- 
der apprehensions of violence, withdraws from your fin- 
ger, ill a kind of precipitate disorder. Perhaps, the beau- 
ty of her aspect might be sullied, or the niceness of her 
texture discomposed, by the human touch. Therefore, 
like a coy virgin, she recedes from all unbecoming famil- 
iarities ; and will admit no such improper, if not perni- 
cious, freedoms. 

Whatever be the cause of this unusual effect, it sug- 
gests an instructive admonition to the Christian. Such 
should be our apprehensive timorous care, with regard to 
sin, and all, even the most distant, approaches of vice. So 
should we avoid the very appearance of evil, and stand a- 
loof from every occasion of falling. — If sinners entice, if 
forbidden pleasures tempt, or if opportunity beckon, with 
the gain of injustice in her hand ; O ! turn from the gil- 
ded snare, touch not the beauteous bane ; but fly, fly with 

* Gsl. ii. 20. t Pliil- iii. 10, 

M 2 



138 



REFLECTIONS 



' P- 



haste, fly without any delay, from the bewitching ruin.— 
Does a- ger draw near wi^h her lighted torch, to kindle 
the flames of resentmei^tln our brtiatits ? Does flattery ply 
our eai s, with her iuchanting whispers ? would Discon- 
tent lay her leaden hand upon our temper, and mould into 
our minds htr sour leaven, in order to make us a burden 
to ourselves, and unamiable to others ? instantly let us di- 
vert our attention from the dangerous objects ; and not 
so much endeavor to antidote, as to shun, the moral conta- 
gion. Let us revolve in our meditations, that wonderful 
meekness of our distressed Master, which, amidst the 
most abusive and provoking insults, maintained an uni- 
form tenor of unshaken serenity. Let us contemplate 
that prodigious humiliation, which brought him, from an 
infinite height above all worlds, to make his bed in the 
dust of earth. Let us soothe our jarring, our uneasy pas- 
sions, with the remembrance of that cheerfulness and re- 
signation, which rendered him, in the deepest poverty un- 
feignedly thankful ; and, under the heaviest tribulations, 
most submissively patient. 

Harbor not, on any consideration, the betrayer pf your 
virtue. Always maintain a holy sensibility of soul. Be 
deaf, inflexibly deaf, to every beguiling solicitation. If it 
obtrude into the unguarded heart, give it entertainment; 
no, not for a moment. To parley with the enemy, is to o- 
pen a door for destruction. Our safety consists in flight ; 
and, in this case, suspicion is the truest prudence ; fear, 

the greatest bra very Play not on the brink of the preci» 

pice. Flutter not round the edges of the flame. Daily 
not with the stings of death. But reject, with a becom- 
ing mixture of solicitude and abhorrence, the very first 
insinuations of iniquity ; as cautiously, as the smarting 
sore shrinks even from the softest hand : as constantly, 
as this jealous plant recoils at the approaching touch.* 

* The prophet Isa'ab, in an elegant and lively description of the 
i2pright man, savs. He shaketh his hands frontJ holding of bribes ; 
and, 1 nnay add, from practising any kind of iniquty The image, 
exceedingly beaunful and equally expressive, both illustrates and 
enforces the doctrine of this whole section.— Shaketh his hands; 
just as a person would do, who h; pr;eps to have burning coals fall 
into hi^ lap, or son.e venomous creature fastening upon his flesh. In 
such a case, none would stand a moment to con&ider, or to debate 
with himidf the expediency of the thing. lie w oul4 instant!/ fling 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 139 

Not long ago, these curious proau*. ions of the Spring 
v/ere coarse and iiiis-ihapen roots. Haci we opened the 
earth, and beheld them in their seed, tiow uiicouth and 
contemptible had their appearance been I — But novv iney 
are the boast of nature, the delight of the sons oi men, iia- 
ishedfor paittriis lor enameliiiig and embroidery, outshin- 
ing even the happiest strokes of the pencil, Ttiey cue 
taught to biocm, but with a vely inferior lustre,* in tiie 
rix><:st tap btries, a;;d most magnificent silics. Art never 
attempts to equal their incomparable elegancies ; hut pla- 
ces ail her merit, in copying aiier these delicate oiigindis. 
Even those who glitter in silver, or whose clothing is of 
wrought gold, are desirous to borrow adaitionai orna- 
ments, from a sprig of jessamine, or a little assemblage of 
pinks. 

What a fine idea may we form, from hence, of the res- 
urrection of the just, and the state of their reanimated 
bodies ! As the roots even of our choicest flowers, when 
deposited in the ground, are rude and ungraceful ; but, 
when they sprhig up into blooming life, are most elegant 
and splendid ; so the flesh of a saint, when committed to 
the dust, alas I what is it? A heap of corruption ; a mass 
of putrefying clay. But, when it obeys the Archangel's 
call, and starts into a new existence ; what an astonishing 
change ensues ! what a most ennoblmg improvement takes 

oflf the pernicious incumbrance ; instantly endeavor to disengage 
i himself tronn the chnging mischief. — Isa. xxxiii.l5. 
f I have represented the danger of not extinguishing immediately 
' the very first sparks of temptation, in a variety of views. Because 
a proper behavour^ in thisconjunciure, is of such vast importance to 
the purity, the safety, and the comfort of our minds,— Becaurse I 
had the royal moralist in my eye ; who, deterrir.g his pupils from 
the path of the wicked, cries with an a:r of deep concern, and in 
the language o£vehement importunity, cries. Avoid it; pass not by 
it; turn from if ; and pass away. How strongly is the council ur- 
ged, by being so frequently repeated ; in such a remarkable diversity 
of concise and abrupt, consequently of forcible and pressing admoni- 
tions ! Prov. iv. 15. 

♦ The cowslip smiles in brighter yellow drest, 
Than that which veils tne nubii virgin's breast 5 
A fairer red stands blushing m the rose, 
Than thai which on the bridegroom's vestments flows. 

Prhr's Soh 



140 REFLECTIONS 

place ? — ^^That which was sown in weakness, is raised in 
all the vivscity of power. That which was sown in cefor- 
mity, IS raised in the bloom ot celestial beauty. Exalted, 
refined, and glorified, it will shine " as the brightness of 
thefirnfiameiit," when it darts the inimitable blue, through 
the fleeces — the snowy fleeces of some cleaving cloud. 

Fear not, then, thou faithful Christian ; fear not, at the 
appointed time, to descend into the tomb. Thy soul thou 
mayebt trust with thy omnipotent Redeemer, wh » is 
Lord of the unseen world ; " who has the keys of hell, and 
of death." Most safely mayest thou trust thy better part, 
in these beneficent hands, which were pierced with nails, 
and fastened to the ignominious tree, for thy salvation — 
With regard to thy earthly tabernacle, be not dismayed. 
It is taken down, only to be rebuilt upon a diviner plan, 
and in a more heavenly form. if it retires into the shad- 
ow of death, and lies immured in the gloom of the grave ; 
it is only to return, from a short confinement, to endless 
liberty. If it fails into dissolution, it is in order to rise 
more illustrious from its ruins ; and wear an infinitely 
brighter face of perfection, and of glory.* 

Having now made my panegyric, let me, next, take up 
a lamentation, for these loveliest productions of the veg- 
etable world — For I foresee their approaching doom. 
Yet a little while, and all the sweets of the breathing, all 
the beauties of the blooming Spring, are no more. Eve- 
ry one of these amiable forms must be shrivelled to defor- 
mity, and trodden to the earth — Significant resemblance 
this of all created beauty. All flesh is grass ; hke the 
green herbage, liable and prone to fade. Nay, all the 
goodliness thereof, its finest accomplishments, and what 
the world universally admires, is as the flower of the fieldjf 
which loses its gloss, decays and perishes, more speedily 
than the grass itself ^ — Behold then, ye brightest among 
the daughters of Eve ; behold yourselves, in this glass. 
See the charms of your person eclipsed, by the lustre of 

* The wise, the just, the pioas, and the brave, 
Live in their deaths, and flourish from the grave, 
Grain hid in earth, repays the peasant's care, 
And ev'ning suns but set to rise naore fair. 

t Isa- xi. 6. 



ON A PLOWER-GARDE:^. 141 

these little flov/ers, and the frailty of your state represent- 
ed, * by their transient glories. A fever may scorch those 
polished veins ; a consumption may emaciate the dimp- 
ling cheeks ; and a load of unexpected sorrows depress 
those lively spirits. Or should these disasters, in pity, 
spare the tender frame ; yet age, inexorable age and wrin- 
kles, will assuredly come at last ; will wither all the fine 
features, and blast every sprightly grace. 

Then, ye fair, when those sparkling eyes are darkened, 
and sink in their orbs 1 when they are roiling in agonies, 
or swimming in death ; how v»iil you sustain the afilic- 
lion ? how will you repair the loss ? — Apply your thoughts 
to religion. Attend to the one thing needful. Believe in, 
and imitate, the blessed Jesus. Then shall your souls 
mount up to the realms of happiness, when the well pro- 
portioned clay is mingling wim its mean original. The 
light of God's countenance will irradiate, with matchless 
and consummate perfection, all their exalted faculties. 
Cleansed entirely from every dreg of corruption, like 
some unsullied mirror, they will reflect the complete im- 
age of their Creator's holiness. — O ! that you would thus 
dress your minds, and prepare for the immortal state I 
Then from shining among your fellow creatures on earth, 
you shall be translated, to shine arctmd the throne of God. 
Then, from being the sweeteners of our life, and the de- 
light of our eyes here below, you shall pass, by an easy 
transition, into angels of light ; and become " an everlast- 
ing excellency, the joy of all generations." 

W^ien snows desc nd, and robe the fields 

In winter's bright array ; 
Touched by the sun, the lustre fades, 

And weeps it sell away. 

When Spring appears ; when violets blow, 

And shed a rich perfume ; 
How soon its fragrance breathes its last ! 

How short'liv'd is the bloom ! 

Fresh in the morn, the Summer- rose 
Hangs with'ring ere 'tis noon ; 

* The reader will excuse me, if I imitate, rather than translate 
the beautiful outlines from Theocritus ; if I vary one image, add a- 
«pther, and give a new turn to the w hole. 



142 REFLECTIONS 

We scarce enjo>- the baimy gifr, 
But mourn the pleasure gone. 

With gl^dirg f.re, an ev'n'ing star 

Streaks ihe autumnal skies : 
Shook from the sphere, it darts away, 

And in an instant dies. 

Such are thechavrns that Rush the cheek. 

And sparkle in the eye : 
So. irrro the lovely Hnish'd form ' 

The transient graces fly. 

To this the Seu-^ons. as they roll. 

Their af estation bring: 
They vvarm the fair ; iheir ev'ry round 

Confirms the ituth I sing. 

Yes ; ye iiowery nations, ye must all decay. — Yonder lily, 
that looks like the queen of the gay creation, — See, how^ 
gracefully it erects its majestic head ! What an air of dig- 
nity and grandeur ennobles its aspect ? For elevated mi- 
en, as well as for incomparable lustre, justly may it be 
preferred to the magniiicent monarch of the East.* But, 
all stately and charming as it is, it will hardly survive a 
few more days. That unspotted whiteness must quickly 
be tarnished, and the snowy form defiled in the dust. 

As the lily pleases^ with the noble simplicity of its ap- 
pearance ; the tulip is admired, for the gaiety and multi- 
plicity of its colours. Never was a cup either painted, or 
enamelled, with such a profusion of dyes. Its tinges are 
so glowing, its contrasts so strong ; and the arrangement 
of them both so elegant and artful ! — It was lately the pride 
of the border, and the reigning beauty of the delightful 
season ; as exquisitely fine as the rainbow, and almost as 
extremely transient. It spreads, for a little moment, its 
glittering plumage ; but has, now, laid all its variegated 
and superior honours down. Those radiant stripes are 
blended, alas ! rudely blended with common mold. 

7'o a graceful shape, and blooming complexion, the rose 
adds the most agreeable perfume Our nostrils make it 
repeated visits, and are never wxary of drinking in its 
sweets. A fragrance, so peculiarly rich and reviving, 
transpires from its opening tufts, tiiat every one covets its 

* Matth. vi- ^. 



ON A FLOWER GARDEN. 143 

f 

acquaintance. How have I seen even the accomplished 
Charisa, for whom so many votaries languish, fondly ca- 
ressing this little llo vver ! That lovely bosonfi, which is the 
seat of innocence and virtue ; whose lea?: exceiiency it is, 
to rival the delicacy of the purcsc snows ; among a thou- 
sand charms of its own, thinks it prssibleto adopt another 
from the damask rose-bud — Yet, even this universal fa- 
vourite must fail. Its native bairn cannot preserve it from 
putrefaction. Soon, soon must it resign ail tiiose endear- 
ing qualities ; and hang negicLted on its stem, or drop de- 
spised to the ground. 

One could wish, me thinks, these most amiable of the 
inanimate race, a longer existence : but in v?dn. They 
fade, almost as soon as they flourish. Within less than a 
month, their glories are extinct. Let the sun take a few 
more journeys through the sky ; then visit thisinchanting 
walk; and you will find nothing but a wretched wilder- 
ness of ragged or naked stnlks. But (my soul exults in 
the thought) the garment of celestial glory, which shall 
ere long array the re-ani»pated body, will never wax old. 
Theillustrious robes of a Saviour's consummate righteous- 
ness, which even now adoni the justified spirit, are incor- 
ruptible and inmiortal. No moth can corrode their tex- 
ture ; ruD number of ages sully their brightness. The 
light of day may be quen hed, and all the stars sink in ob- 
scurity, but the honours of "just men made perfect," are 
subject to no diminution. Inextinguishable and unfading 
is the lustre of their crowns. 

Yes ; ye flowery nations, ye must all decay. — Winter, 
like some enraged and irresistible conqueror that carries 
fire and sword, wherever he advances ; that dem.olishes 
towns ; depopulates countries ; spreads slaughter and de- 
solation, on every side \ — so, just so. will winter, with his 
savage and unrelenting blasts, invade this beautiful pros- 
pect. The storms are gathering, and the tempests mus- 
tering their rage, to fall upon the vegetable kingdoms. 
They will ravage through the dominions of nature; and 
plunder her riches, and lay waste her chaims. — Then, ye 
trees, must ye stand stript of your verd^t apparel ; and, 
ye fields, be spoiled of your waving treasures. Then, the 
earth, disrobed of all her gay attire, must sit in sables, like 
a disconsolate widow. The sun too, who now rides in 
triumph round the world, and scatters gaiety from his ra- 



144? REFLEeTIONS 

diant eye, will then look faintly from the windows of the 
South; and, casting a short glance on our dejected world, 
will leave us to the uncomfortable gloom of tedious night. 
—Then, these pretty choristers of the air will chant no 
more to the gentle gales ; the lark, the linnet, and all the 
feathered songsters, abandon their notes, and indulge their 
woes. The harmony of the woods is at an end ; and si- 
lence, (unless it be interrupted by howling winds) a sullen 
silence sits brooding upon the boughs ; which are now 
made A^ocal, by a thousand warbling throats. 

But, sweet recollection ! ravishing expectation ! the 
songs of saints in light never admit a pause for sadness. 
All heaven wiU resound with the melody of their grati- 
tude ; and all eternity echo to their triumphant acclama- 
tions. The hallelujahs of that world, and the harmonious, 
joy of its inhabitants, will be as lasting as the divine per- 
fections they celebrate. — Come then, holy love, and tune 
my heart ; descend, celestial fire, and touch my tongue ; 
that I may stand ready to strike up, and bear my part, in 
that great hosanna, that everlasting hymn. 

Yes ; yes ; ye flowery nations, ye must all decay. — And 
indeed, could you add the strength of an oak, or the sta- 
bility of a pyramid,* to all the delicacy of your texture ; 
yet short, exceeding short, even then would your duration 
be. For I see that all things come to an end. The pillars 
of nature are tottering^ The foundations of the round 
world are falling away, " The heavens themselves wax old 

* I knov^ not any performance, in which the transitory nature of 
these most durable monuments of human giancieur, is hinted with 
such a modest air of instruction, or their hideous ruin described in 
such a r'Onip of pleasing horror, as in a small but solemn, picture- qe 
apd majf:&tic poem entitled The Ruins of Rome.. v9 ritten by ^he 
Rev. Mr. Dyer ; whonr. the reader (if he has the pleasure of perus- 
ing that beautiful piece) w ill easily percetve to have taken his draughts 
from the originals themselves, as nothing but the sight of those 
magnificent remains, could have inspired his lines with such vivaci- 
ty. As a specimen of the work, and a confirmation of the remark 
suggested above, I take leave to transcribe the following passage. 



-The pilgrim oft, 



At dead of nighty mid his oraison hears 
Aghast the voce of time, departing tow'rs. 
Tumbling ail precipitate down dash*4. 
Ratiiing arounc^ loud thundering to the naoon. 



©N A FLOWER eARD|iN. 145 

like a garment." — But, amidst these views of general ru- 
in, here is our refuge ; this is our consolation ; ^ V/e khdw 
that our redeemer liveth.' Thy years, blessed Jesus, ^i^Ul 
not fail. From everlasting to everlasting, tliou art stiii the 
same; the same most exceileiit and adorable person ; the 
same omnipotent and faithful friend ; the same all-suiii- 
cient and inestimable portion. O ! may we but partake 
of thy merits; be sanctified by thy grace; and received 
into thy glory ! — Then perish, if ye will, all inferior de- 
lights. Let all that is splendid in the skies expire ; and 
all that is amiable in nature be expunged. Let the wnole 
extent of creation be turned again into one undistinguish- 
able void, and universal blank.-— Yet, if God be ours, we 
shall have enough. If God be ours, we shall have all and • 
abound;* all that our circumstances can w^ant, or our 
wishes crave, to make us inconceivably blessed and happy; 
blessed and happy, not only through this little intervale of 
time, but through the unmeasurable revolutions of eter- 
nity. 

The sun is now come forth in his strength, and beats 
fiercely upon my throbbing pulse. Let me retire to yon- 
der inviting arbour. There the woodbines retain the lucid 
drop ; there the jessamines, which line the verdant alcove, 
are still impearled, and deliciously wet with dews.— Wel- 
come, ye refreshing shades ? I feel, I feel your cheering 
influence. My languid spirits revive ; the slackened sin- 
ews are new-strung; and life bounds brisker through all 
her crimson channels. 

Reclined on this mossy couch, and surrounded by this 
fragrant coolness, let me renew my aspirations to the ever- 
present Deity. Here let me ^member, and imitate, the 
pious Augustine, and his mother Monka ; who, being en- 
gaged in discourse on the beauties of the visible creation, 
rose by these ladders, to the glories of the invisible state ; 
till they were inspired with the most affecting sense of 
their supereminenj excellency, and actuated with the most 
ardent breathings after their full enjoyment : Insomuch, 
that they were almost rapt up into the bliss they contem- 
plated ; and scarce knew, " whether they were in the body, 
or out of the body." 

t His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
And bids earth roll, nor feels the 'die whirl* 

i^igkt TbougbtSf No, IF' 
N 



146 REFLECTIONS 

When tempests toss the ocean ; when plaintive signals 
of distress are heard from the bellowing deep ; and mel- 
ancholy tokens of shipwreck come fioatmg on the foaming 
surge ; then how delightful to stand safe on shore, and hug 
one's self in conscious security !* — When a glut of waters 
bursts from some mighty torrent, rushes headlong ovrr all 
the neighbouring plains, sweeps away the helpless cattle, 
and drives the affrighted shepherd from his hut ; then, 
from the top of a distant eminence, to, descry the danger 
we need not fear ; how pleasing ! — Such, methinks, is my 
present situation. F®r now the sun blazes from on high ; 
the air glows with fire; the fields are rent wuh chinks; 
the roads are scorched to dust ; the woods seem to con- 
tract a sickly aspect, and a russet hue ; the traveller, broil- 
ed as he rides, hastens to his inn, and intermits his jour- 
ney ; the labourer, bathed in sweat, drops the scythe, and 
desists from his work ; the cattle flee to some shady cov- 
ert, or else pant and toss under the burning noon. Even 
the stubborn rock, smit with piercing beams, is ready to 
cleave. All things languish beneath the dazzling deluge. 
—While I shall enjoy a cool hour, and calm reflectioDj 
amidst Xhe gloom of this boweiy recess, wliich scaixe ad- 
mits one speck of sun-shine. 

Thus, may both the flock and their shepherd, " dwell 
beneath the defence of the Most High, and abide under 
the shadow of the Almighty."t Then, though the| pesti- 
lence walketh in darkness, and the sickness destroyeth at 
noon-day; though thousands fall beside us, and ten thou- 
sands at our right hand ; we need fear no evil. Either the 
destroying angel shall pass over our houses ; or else he 
shall dispense the corrections of a friend, not the scourges 

* As Lucretius gave the hint for these Observations, so he assigns 
the reason of the pleasure specified. It arises, not from the consi- 
deration of another's misery j this would argue the rankest malevo- 
lence; but from the agreeable contemplation of our own personal 
safety ; which, while we view circumstances that are pernicious to 
ethers but harmless to ourselves, is not a little heightened by the 
contrast. Suave mari magpo, &c. 

t Psalm xci, 1. 

J This was written when a very infectious and mortal distempet 
iraged in the neighbourhood 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 147 

of an enemy ; which, instead of hurting us, shall work 
for our good. — Tlien, though profaneness and infidelity, 
far more njaligoant evils, breathe deadly contagion, and 
taiiit the morals of multitudes around us ; yet, if the great 
Father of spirits '' hide us in the hollow of his hand," we 
shall hold fast our integrity, and be faithful unto death. 

Let then, dearest Lord, O ! let thy servant, and the peo- 
ple committed to his care, be received into thy protection. 
Let us take sanctuary under that tree of life, erected in thy 
ignominious cross. Let us fly for safety to that city of 
refuge, opened in thy bleeding wounds. These shall be 
a sacred hiding place, not to be pierced by the flames of 
divir.e wrath, or the fiery darts of temptation. Thy dying 
merits, and perfect obedience, shall be to our souls, '^ as 
rivers of waters in a dry place, or as the shadow of a great 
rock in a weary land.* 

^ut most of all, in that last tremendous day, when the 
Aeavcns are rent asunder, and wrapped up like a scroll ; 
when thy almighty arm shall arrest the sun in his career, 
and dash to pieces the structure of the universe ; when 
the dead, both small and great, shall be gathered before 
the throne of thy glory ; and the fates of all mankind hang 
on the very point of a final irreversible decision.— Then^- 
blessed Jesus, let us be owned by thee, and we shall not 
be ashamed ; defended by thee, and we shall not be afraid. 
*0 1 may we, at that awful, that unutterably important 
juncture, be covered with the wings of thy redje,eming love, 
and we shall behold all the horrible convulsions of expir- 
ing nature, with composure, with comfort i We shall 
even welcome the dissolution of all things, as the '' times 
of refreshing from the presence of the Lord."t 

There are, I perceive, who still attend the flowers ; and, 
in defiance ot the sun, ply their work on every expanded 
blossom. The bees I mean; that nation of chymists I to 
'*whom nature has communicated the rare and valuable se- 
cret, of enriching themselves, without impoverishing oth- 
ers ; who extract the most delicious syrup from every frti- 
grant herb, without wounding its substance, or diminish- 
ing its odours. — I take the more notice of these ingenious 
operators, because I would willingly make them my i)at- 

• Isa. xxxii.2. t Acts iii. 19. 



148 REFLECTIONS 

ten'..* While the gay butterfiy flutters her painted win^. 
and sips a lixtle fantastic delightj only for the present mo- 
ment f v^nile the gloomy spider, worse than idly busied, is 
preparing his insidious nets for destruction, or sucking 
venom even from the 2:nost wholesome plants. This fru- 
gal commiinity are Vvisely employed in providing for futu- 
rity, and collecting a copious stock of the most baimy trea- 
sures.^ — And'O ! mig"ht these meditations sink into my 
soul i would the God, who suggested each heavenly 
thoiightj vouchsafe to convert it into an established prin- 
ciple, to deteriTiine s.11 rny inclinations, and regulate my 
whole conduct I I should, then, gather advantages from 
the same hlcc ''"t ^bjccts. more precious than your gol- 
den store^ , y :gus artists. I also should go home, 
laden n'itii the iicnest sweets, and the noblest spoils; 
though I crop not a leaf, nor call a single flower my own. 
Here i behold, Rssernbled in one view, almost all the 
various beauties which hare been severally entertaining 
my i^-naginaticn. The vistas, struck thn/Ugh an ancient 
wood, or formed by rows of venerable elms; conducting 
the spectator's observation to some remarkable object ; or 
leading the traveller's footsteps to this deligthful seat.-The 
%vall, enriched with fruit-trees, and faced with a covering 
of their leafy extensions ; I should rather have said hung 
V'ith different pieces of Nature's noblest tapestry. The 
walks, neatly shorn, and lined with verdure ; or finely 
smoothed, and coated with gravel. The alleys arched 
with shades, to embower our noontide repose ; or thrown 
open for the free acf-trssion of air, to invite us to our eve- 
ning recreation. The decent edgings of box, which in- 
close» like a plain selvage, each beautiful compartment, 
and its splendid fio^ures. The shapely evergreens, and 
fiowerini^: shrubs, w'dch strike the eye, and appear with 
peculiar dignity, in this distant situation. The bason, with 
its crista! fount floating in the centre, and diffusing an 
agreeable freshness through the whole. The waters, fall- 
ing from a remote cascade, and gently murmuring, as 
they flow along the pebbles. These added to the rest ; 
and so disposed, that each recommends and endeai's each, 

# Ego apis matiriDe 

More modoque. 
Grata carpentis thy ma. Hor^ 



OS A FLOWER-GARDEN. 149 

render the whole a most sweet ravishing scene, of order 
and vu-riety. of elegance and magmficeiice. 

From so many lovely prospects, clustering upon the 
sight, it i? impossible not to be reminded of heaven, that 
world of bliss, those regions of light wher. the Lamb that 
was slain manifests his beatific presence, aritl his saints 
live for evermore. But O ! what pencil can sketch out a 
draught of that goodly land ? What colours, or what style, 
can express the splendours of ImmanuePs kingdom I 
Would some celestial hand draw aside the veil, but for a 
moment ; and permit us to throw a single glance on those 
divine abodes ; how would all sublunary possessions be- 
come tarnished in our eyes, and grow flat upon our taste ! 
A glimpse, a transient glimpse of those unutterable beau- 
ties would captivate our souls, and ingross all their facul- 
ties. Eden itself, after such a vision, would appear a 
cheerless desert ; and all earthly charms intolerable defor- 
mity. 

Very excellent things are spoken of thee, thou city of 
God.* Volumes have been written, and those by inspired 
men, to display the wonders of thy perfections. All that 
is rich and resplendent in the visible creation, has been 
called in to aid our conceptions, and elevate our ideas. 
But, indeed, no tongue can utter,. no pen can describe, no 
fancy can imagine, what God, of his unbounded m/uniii- 
ceiice, has prepared for them that love him. — Seeing then 
that all terrestrial things must come to a speedy end; and 
there remaineth a rest, a blissful and everlasting rest, for 
the people of God ; let me never be too fondly attached 
to any present satisfactions. Weaned from whatever is 
temporal, may I maintain a superior indifference for such 
transitory enjoyments ; but long, long earnestly, for the 
mansions that are above ; the paradise, " which the Lord 
hath planted, and not man." Thither may I transmit the 
chief of my conversation ; and from thence expect the 
whole of my happiness. Be that the sacred, powerful 
magnet, which ever influences my heart, ever attracts my 
aff'ections. There are such transcendent glories, as eye 
has not seen ; here are such transporting pleasures, as 
ear has not heard ; there is such a fulness of joysj as the 
thought of man cannot conceive. 

Psalm l?ixxvii, 2. 
N 2 



150 REFLECTIONS, StC. 

Into that consummate felicity, those eternal fruitions, 
permit me, Madam, to wish you, in due time, an abun- 
dant entrance ; and to assure you, that this wish is breath- 
ed, with the same sincerity and ardour, for my honoured 
correspondent, as it is, madam, for 

Your most obedient^ l^c. 

JAMES HERVEY. 



A DESCANT 



UPON CREATION. 



With joy, with grief that healing hand I see; 
The skies it form'd, and yet it bled for me. 

Nigbt-Thougbts^ No- IK 



IF the reader pleases to look back on page 109, he will 
find me engaged, by a promissai y note, to subjoin a Des- 
cant upon Creation. 

To know the love of Christ ; to have such a deep ap- 
prehension of his unspeakable kindness, as may produce 
in our hearts an adoring gratitude, and an unfeigned faith; 
this according to St. Paul's estimate, is the highest and 
^.happiest attainment in the sacred science of Christianity.* 
.^"What follows is an attempt to assist the attentive mind; in 
jleaming a line or two of that best and greatest lesson. It 
introduces the most conspicuous parts of the visible sys- 
|tem, as so many prompters to cur dull affections ; each 
J;suggesting a hint, adapted to the important occasion, and 
suited to its respective charact-^r. 

Can there be a more pov erful incentive to devout grat- 
itude, than to consider the magnificent and delicate scenes 
of the universe, with a particular reference to Christ, as 
the Creator I — Every object, viewed in this light, will 
surely administer incessant recruits to the languishing 
I'amp of divine love. Every production in Nature will 
strike a spark into the soul ; and the whole creation con- 
cur to raise the smcaking fiax into a flame. 

Can anything impart a stronger joy to the believer, ov 
more effectually confirm his faith in the crucified Jesus, 
than to behold the heavens declaring his glory, and the fir- 

* Erph. ilk 19, 



152 



A DESeANT 



niament shewing his handy work ? — Surely, it must be 
matter of inexpressible consolation to the poor sinner, to 
observe the honouis of ids Redeemer, written with sun- 
beams, over all the face of the world. 

We delight to read an account of our incarnate Jehovah, 
as he is revealed in the books of Moses and the prophets, 
as he is displayed in the writings of the evangehsts and 
apostles. Let us also endeavour to see a sketch of his 
perfections, as they stand delineated in that stately volume, 
w'here every leaf is a spacious plain, — every line a flowing 
brook, — every period, a lofty mountain. 

Should any of my readers be unexercised in such spec- 
ulations, I beg leave (in pursuance of my promise) to pre- 
sent them with a specimen ; or to offer a clue, which may 
possibly lead their minds into this most improving and de- 
lightful train of thinking. 

Should any be inclined to suspect the solidity of the fol- 
lowing observations, or to condemn them, as the voice of 
rant, and the lawless flight of fancy ; I must entreat such 
persons to recollect, that the grand doctrine, the hinge on 
which they all turn, is warranted and established by the 
unanimous testimony of the inspired penmen ; who fre- 
quently celebrate Imnianuel, or Christ Jesus, as the great 
almighty cause of all ; assuring us, that " all things were . 
created by him, and for him ; and that in him all things 
consist."* 

On such a subject, what is wonderful is far from being 
extravagant. To be wonderful, is the inseparable char- 
acteristic of God and his works ; especially of that most 
distinguished and glorious event of the divine works, re- 
demption ; so glorious, '' that all the miracles in Egypt, 
'Und the marvellous acts In the field of Zoan ;" all that the 
Jewish annals have recorded, or the human ear has heard ; 
all dwindle into trivial events, are scarce worthy to be re- 
membered,! in comparison of this infinitely gracious trans- 
action. — Kindled, therefore, into pleasing astonishment, 
by^uch a survey, let me give full scope to my meditations. 
Let me pour out my whole soul on the boundless subject; 

* Col i. 16, 17. Before my reader enters upon the following DeS' 
cant, he is desired to peruse the note, page 109, 



t Isai. xliii. 18. 



UPON CREATION. 153 

not much regarding the limits, which cold criticism, or 
colder unbelief, might prescribe* 

O ye Angels, that suiTound the throne ; ye Princes of 
Heaven, '^ that excel in strength," and are clothed with 
transcendant brightness ; He, who placed you in those sta- 
tions of exalted honour, and dignified yom^ nature with 
such illustrious endowments ; He, whom you all obey, 
and all adore ; He took not on him, the angelic form, but 
was made flesh, and found in fashion as a man. Like us, 
wretched mortals, He was subject to weariness, pain, and 
every other infirmity, sin only excepted : — that w^e might, 
one day, be raised to your sublime abodes ; be adopted in- 
to your bhssful society ; and join with your transported 
choir, in giving glory to him that sitteth upon the throne, 
and to the Lamb for ever and ever.* 

O ye heavens, whose azure arches rise immensely high, 
and stretch unmeasurably wide; stupendous amphitheatre! 
amidst whose vast expansive circuit, orbs of the most 
dreadful grandeur are perpetually running their amazing 
races. Unfathomable depths of aether ! where worlds un- 
numbered float ; and, to our limited sight, worlds unnum- 
bered are lost : — He, who adjusted your dimensions with 
his span, and formed the magnificent structure with 
his word ; he was once wrapt in swadling cloths, and laid 
in a manger. That the benefits accruing to his people, 
through his most meritorious humiliation, might have no 
other measure of their value than immensity ; might run 
parallel, in their duration with eternity. 

Ye stars, that beam with inextinguishable brilliancy, 
through the midnight sky ; oceans of flame, and centres 
of worlds, though seemingly little points of light ! — He, 
who shone with essential effulgence, innumerable ages 
before your twinkling tapers were kindled, and will shine 
with everlasting beauty and majesty, when your places in 
the firmament shall be know^n no more. He was involved, 
fcr many years, in the deepest obscurity; lay concealed 
in the contemptible city of Nazareth ; lay disguised under 
the mean hafe^t of a carpenter's son : — That he might plant 
the heaven s,t as it ^\'ere, with new constellations ; and ar- 
ray these clods of earth, these houses of clay, with a radi- 
ancy, far superior to yours ; a radiancy which will adorn 

*Rev, v,13. +Isa. li.16. 



154 A DESCANT 

the rery heaven of heavens, wnen you shall vanish away 
like smoke ;* or expire as momentaiy sparks ivoni the 
smitten steel. 

Comets, that sometimes shoot into the illimitable tracts 
of aether, farther than the disGer^ment of our eye is able to 
follow; sometimes return from the long, long excursion, 
and sweep cur aftrighted hemisphere with your enormous 
fiery train ; that sometimes- make near approaches to the 
sun, and burn aiir.ost in his immediate beams; sometimes 
retire to the remotest distance, and freeze for ages, in the 
excessive rigours oi Winter. He vrno, at his sovereign 
pleasure, v/ithdraws the blazing wonder; or leads forth 
the portentous stronger, to shc.ke tenor over guilty king- 
doms ; he was overwhelmed with the most shocking 
amazement, and plunged into the deepest anxiety; was 
chilled with apprehensions of fear, and scorched by the 
flames of avenging wrath : — That I, and other depraved 
rebellious creatures, might not be eternally agitated Vvith 
the extremes of jarring passions; opposite, yet, on either 
side, torm^enting ; far more tormenting to the soul, than 
the severest degrees of your heat and cold to the human 
sense. 

Ye planets, that, w'inged with unimaginable speed, tra- 
verse the regions of the sky; sometimes climbing millions 
and millions of miles above, sometimes des^rending as far 
below^, the great axle of your motions : Ye, that are so 
minutely faithful to the vicissitudes of day and night ; so 
exactly punctual in bringing on the changes of your res- 
pective seasons : He, who launched you., at first, from his 
mighty arm ; who continually impels you with such vy-Gn = 
derful rapidity, and guides you with such perfect regulari- 
ty ; wdio fixes '^ the habitation of his holiness and his glo- 
ry," infinite heights above your scanty rounds ; he once 

* Alluding to a passage in Isaiah, wh^ch is, I ibink. grar.d and 
elevated beyond all comparison, '* Lift up your eyes to the heav- 
ens, and look upon the earth beneath ; for the heavens shall vanish 
away h.ke smoke, and the earth shall -vvax old like a garment, snd 
they that dwell therein shall die" like the feeoie insect. *' But my 
righteousness shall be for ever, and my Safvation shall not be abol- 
ished,-' Isa. li. 6» With the great Vitringa, I translate it not in like 
manner, but like the feeble insect. Which renders the period more 
complete; the sense mere emphatical j and is more agreeable to the 
genius cf the sacred original. 



UPON CREATION. 155 

became a helpless infant, sojourned in our inferior world, 
flit d troni the persecutor's sword, and wandered as a vaga- 
bond in a foreign land ; — That he might lead our feet into 
the way of peace ; that he might briug us aliens near to 
God, bring us exiles home to heaven. 

Thou sun, inexausted source ot light, and heat, and 
comfort ! without whose presence an universal gloom 
would ensue, and horror unssupportable ; who, without 
the assistance of any other fire, sheddest day through a 
thousand realms ; and, not confining thy munificence to 
realms only, extendeth thy enlightenieg influences to sur- 
rounding worlds; prime cheerer of the animal, and great 
enlivener of the vegetable tribes 1 So beautiful in thyself, 
SGT beneficial in thy effects, that erring heathens addressed 
thee with adoration, and mistook thee for their Maker ! — 
He, who filled thy orb with a profusion of lustre ; lustre, 
in its direct emanations, unsufferably bright, but rebated 
by reflection, delightfully mild : He, before whom thy me- 
ridian splendors are but a shade ; whose love transfused 
into the heart, is infinitely more exhilarating, than even 
the sweet and clear shining after the rain : He divested 
himself of his all-transcending distinctions, and drew a veil 
over the effulgence of his divinity ; that, by speaking to 
us, face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend, he 
might dispel our inteihsctual darkness. His " visage was 
marred,"* and he became the scotn of men, the outcast 
of the people ; that by this manifestation of his unuttera- 
ble tender regard for our welfare, he might diffuse many 
a gleam of joy through our dejected minds ; that, in an- 
other state of things, he might clothe even our fallen na- 
ture, with the honours of that magnificent luminary, and 
give all the righteous to shine forth as the sun, in the king- 
dom of their Father. 

Thou moon, that walkest among the host of stars, and, 
in thy lucid appearance, art superior to them all : Fair 
ruler of the night 1 Sometimes half-restoring the day with 
thy waxing brightness ; sometimes waning into dimness, 
and scarcely scattering the nocturnal gloom ; sometimes 
covered with sack-cloth, and alarming the gazing nations ! 
He who dresses thy opaque globe, in beaming, but bor- 
rpwed silver ^ He whose dignitj is unchangeable, unde* 

* Isa. lii. 14. 



156 A DESCANT 

rived, and all his own ! He vouchsafed to wear a body of 
clay : He was content to appear as in a bloody eclipse, 
shorn of his resplendent beams, and surrounded with a 
night of horror, which knew not one reviving ray. Thus 
has he empowered his church, and all believers, to tread 
the moon under their feet.* Hence, inspired with the hope 
of brighter glory, and of more enduring bliss, are they en- 
abled to triumph over all the vain anxieties, and vainer 
amusements, of this sublunary, precarious, mutable world. 

Ye thunders, that, awfully grumbling in the distant 
clouds, seem to meditate indignation, and form the first 
essays of a far more frightful peal ; or, suddenly bursting 
over our heads, rend the vault above, and shake the ground 
below, with the hideous, horrid crack : Ye that send your 
tremendous volleys from pole to pole, startling the savage 
herds,t and astonishing the human race : He who permits 
Terror to sound her trumpet, in your deep, prolonged, 
enlarging, aggravated roar : He uttered a feeble infantile 
cry in the stable, and strong expiring groans on the ac- 
cursed tree ; that he might in the gentlest accents, whis- 
per peace to our souls ; and, at length, tune our voices to 
the melody of heaven. 

O ye lightnings, that brood, and lie couchant, in the sul- 
phureous vapors ; that glance, with forked fury, from the 
angry gloom, swifter and fiercer than the lion rushes from 
his den ; or open into vast expansive sheets of flame, sub- 
limely waved over the prostrate world, and fearfully lin- 
gering in the frighted skies : Ye that formerly laid in ashes 
the licentious abodes of lust and violence : that will, ere 
long, set on fire the elements, and co-operate in the con- 
flagration of the globe : He who kindles your flash, and 
directs you when to sally, and where to strike : He who 
commissions your whirhng bolts, whom to kill and whom to 
spare : He resigned his sacred person to the most barbarous 
indignities; submitted his beneficent hands to the ponderous 
hammer, and the piercing nail ; yea, withheld not his heart, 
his very heart, from the stab of the executioner's spear : 
And, instead of flashing confusion on his outrageous tor- 
mentors ; instead of striking them dead to the earth, or 
plunging them to the depths of hell, with his frown : He 
cried — in his last moments, and with his agonizing lips, 

* Rev xil Ic t Psaltn xxjx, 8. 



UPON CREATION. 157 

He cried. Father, forgive them ; for they know not what 
they do 1 — O ! what a pattern of patience For his saints t 
what an object of admiration for angels! what a constel- 
lation of every mild, amiable, and benign virtue shining in 
this hour of darkness, with ineffable splendour and beau- 
ty !* Hence, hence it is that ws are not trembling under 
the lightnings of mount Sinai ; that we are not blasted by 
the flames of divine vengeance ; or doon|ed to dwell with 
everlasting burnings. 

^e frowning wintry clouds ; oceans pendant in the air, 
ana burdening the winds : He, in whose hand you are an 

* One can hardly forbear aninnadverting upon the disingenuous 
temper, and perverse taste of Celsus, who attempts to turn this most 
distinguishing and ornamental part of our Lord's life, into ridicule 
and reproach. Having spoken of Christ, as despitefully used, and 
arrayed in a purple robe, crowned with thorns ; and holding, hv way 
of mock-majesty, a reed instead of a sceptre (for he enters mto all 
these circumstances, which is a testimony to their truth even from 
the mouth of an enemy:) he adds. Why, in the name of wonder, 
does he not, on this occasion, at least, act the God ? Why does he 
not deliver himself from this shocking ignominy ; or execute some 
signal vengeance on the authors of such injurious and abusive insults, 
both of himself and his Father? — Why, Celsus; because he was 
meekness and gentleness itself; whereas your deities were slaves to 
their own turbulent and resentful passions. Because they were lit- 
tle better than savages in human shape; who too often made a me- 
ritcf slaughter, and took a horrid pride in spilling blood : while 
Christ was the Prince of Peace, and came not to destroy men's 
lives, but to save. Because any madman on earth, or fury from hell 
is capable of venting his rage: But who, amidst such unsuflferab:e 
provocations and barbarities ; who, having in his own hand, the 
power to rescue hira- elf, the power to avenge himself: could sub- 
mit to all, with an unruffled serenity of patience; and not only xiot 
be exasperated, but overcome, in so triumphant a manner, evil wth 
good ?— None but Christ! none but Christ ! This was compassion 
worthy of a God; clemency and charity truly divine- 
Therefore, the calumny raised by the same virulent objector in 
another place, carries its own confutation ; or, ra^her^ falls with a 
weight of infamy on his dunghill deities; wh^le it bears a most 
■ onourable testimony to the majestic and invincible meekness of our 
aviour — Yoi^indeed, says he to the Christian, take upon you to 
eride the images of our de'^nes: but if Bacchus himself, or Her- 
ules had been present, y©u w culd no: have dared co offer such an af- 
ront : or, if you had been so presumptuous, wou'd have severely 
marted for your insolence: Wnereas, they who tormented the ve* 
y person of your God, and even extended him with mortal agony, 
n the cross, suffered no effects of his displeasure^. 

O 



158 A DESCANT 

overflowing scourge ; or, by whose appointment, an arse- 
nal * of warlike stores : He who opens your sluices, and 
a flood gushes forth, to destroy the fi'uits of the earth, and 
drown the husbandman's hopes : wno moulds you into fro- 
zen balls, and you are shot, linked with death,t on the 
troops of his enemies r He, instead of discharging the fu- 
nousness of his wrath upon this guilty head, poured out 
his prayers, pomxd out his sighs, poured out his soul, for 
me and my fellow transgressors : that, by virtue of his in- 
estimable rropitiation, the oveiflov/ings of divine good- will 
might be extended to sinful men ; that the skies mf^ht 
pour down righteousness ; and peace on her downy 
wings, peace with her balmy blessings, descend to dwell 
on earth. 

Ye vernal clouds ; furls of finer aii', folds of softer m>ois- 
ture : He, who draws you, in copious exhalations, from 
the briny deep ; bids you leave every distasteful quality 
behind, and become floating fountains of sweetest waters : 
— He, who dissolves you into gentle rain, and dismisses 
you in fruitful showers ; who kindly commissions you to 
drop down fati^ss, as you fall, and to scatter flowers over 
the field : — He, in the unutterable bitterness of his spirit, 
"was without any comfortii7g sense of his Almighty Fath- 
er's presence : — ^He, wli^n his bones were burnt up like a 
firebrand, had not one drop of that sacred consolation, 
which, on many of his afflicted servants, has been distilled 
as the evening dews, and has " given songs in the night" 
of distress : — That, from this unallayed and inconsolable 

» Juvenal seems to consider the clouds, under this same charac- 
ter, in that beautiful line, 

Quicquid habent telorum armamentaria coeli. 

t Job has informed us for what purpose the magazines of the fir- 1 
mament are stocked with hail. That they may be ready against the I 
day of battle and war. Job xxxviii. 23. — Joshua his recorded,! 
tv hat terrible slaughter has been made» by those missive weapons of I 
the AJmighty, Josh- x. 11— Modern historians relate, that, whenf 
Edward III. invaded France, a shower of hail-stcnes descended, of 
such a prodigious size, that six thousand horses, and one thousandl 
men, we-e struck dead instantaneously. — But the most dreadful de-f 
sc»ipnon of this ereat ordinance of the heavens, is given us in Rev. I 
xvi. 2U Thfr fell upon men, a great bailout of heaven, every | 
stone about the weight of s talent. 



UPON CREATION. 159 

anguish of our all gracious Master, we, as from a "well of 
salvation, mi^^ht derive large draughts of spiritual re- 
freshment. 

1 hou grand ethereal bow ; whose beauties flush the 
firmament, and charm every spectator ; He who paints 
thee on the fluid skirts of the sky ; who decks tliee with 
alltfie pride ofc lors ; and bends thee into that graceful 
and majestic figure ; at whose command thy vivid streaks 
sweetly rise, or swiftly fade : — He, through all his life, 
was arrayed in the humble garb of poverty ; and, at his 
exit, wore the gorgeous garment of contempt. — Inso- 
much, that even his own familiar friends, ashamed or a- 
fraid to own him, ** hid as it were their faces fmm him !"* 
— To teach us a becoming disdain, for the unsubstantial 
and transitory glitter of all worldly vanities : To introduce 
us, in robes brighter than the tinges of thy resplendent 
a]xh ; even in the robes of his own immaculate righteous- 
ss, to introduce us, before that august and venerable 
throne, which the peaceful rainbow surrounds ; surrounds 
^ as a pledge of inviolable fidehty, and infinite mercy. 

Ye storms and tempests, which vex the continent, and 
toss the seas; which dash navies on the rocks, and drive 
forests from the roots : He, whose bi^eath rouses you into 
such resistless fury, and whose nod coutrols you in your - 
wildest career : He, who holds the rapid and raging hur- 
ricane in straitened reins ; and walks dreadfully serene, 
on the very v/ings of the wind : He went, all meek and 
gentle, like a lamb to the slaughter for us ; and, as a 
sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his 
mouth. — Thus we are instructed to bear, with decent 
magnanimity, the various assaults of adversity ; and to 
*? pass, with a becoming tranquillity of temper, through all 
^ the rude blasts of injurious treatment. ,Thus are we de- 
m iivered from the unutterably fiercer storm of incensed and 
PT inexorabie justice; from the " fire, the brimstone, and 
the horrible tempest, which will be the final portion of the 
ungodly." 

'^lou pestilence, that scatterest ten thousand poisons 
ro m thy baleful wings ; tainting the air, and infecting the 

* Isa. liii 3. Fuit tarquam aliquis, a quo qulsque faciem occulta- 
ret.. He was as some flagnicuf^ and abardorjecUvre^ch from whom 
every one, disdaining such a cnaracer. aud disclaiming such an ac- 
quaintance, studiously hid his face, 



^6t> A DESCANT 

nations ; under whose malignant influence, joy is blasted^ 
and nature sickens ; mighty regions are depopulated, and 
once crouded cities are left without inhabitants ; He, who 
arms thee with inevitable destruction, and bids thee march 
before his angry countenance,* to spread desolation a- 
mong the tents of the wicked, and be the forerunner of 
far more fearful indignation : He, in his holy humanity, 
was arraigned as a criminal ; and, though innocence it- 
self, yea, the very pattern of perfection was condemned to 
die, like the most execrable miscreant. As a nuisance to 
society, and the very bane of the public happiness, he was 
hurried av/ay to the execution and hammered to the gibbet ; 
—That, by his blood, he might piepare a sovereign medi- 
cine to cure us of a more fatal distemper, than the pesti- 
lence which walketh in darkness, or the sickness which 
destroyeth at noon-day : That he might himself say to our 
last enemy, '' O death, I will be thy plague ; O grave, I 
%vill be thy destruction. "f 

Heat, whose burning influence parches the Lybian 
wilds ; tans into soot the Ethiopian's complexion ; and 
makes every species oilife pant, and droop, and languish : 
Cold, whose icy breath glazes yearly the Russian seas ; of- 
ten p*lues the frozen sailor to the rords^:^ : «rJ. StiSc-js the 
traveller into a sta'i^e of rigid flesh :— He, who sometimes 
blends you both, and produces the most agreeable temper- 
ature ; sometimes suffers you to act separately, and rage 
with intolerable severity ; that King of heaver.; arid 
Controller of universal nature, when dvrelling in a 
tabernacle of clay, was exposed to chilling damps, and 
smitten by siiltrv beams. The stars, in their midnight 
watches, heard him pray ; and the sun, in his meridian 
fervors, sav/ bini toil — Hence are our frozen hearts dis- 
solved into a- mir^gled flow of wonder, love, and joy ■ 
being conscious of a deliverance from those in suffer- 
ablf flames, v»'hich, kindled by divine indignation, burn to 
the lowest hell. 

Thou ocean, vast world of waters I He, who sunk that 
capacious bed for thy reception, and poured the liquid em- 
inent into unfathomable channels ; before whom, all tliy 
foaming billows, and floating mountains, are as the small 

* Before him went the pestilence. Ilab. iii. 5. 
•} Hos. xiii. 14. 



UPON CREATION. 161 

drop of a bucket ; who, by the least intimation of his wiil> 
swells thy fluid kingdoHiS, in wild confusion, to mingle 
with the clouds ; or reduces them, in cahii composure, to 
slumber on the shoies : He, who once gave taee a war- 
rant to overv/helm the whole earth, and bury ail its de- 
generate inhabitants ia a wateiy grave ; but has now laid 
an everlasting embargo on thy boisieious vvaves ; and 
bound thee, ail fierce and maddening as thou art, in chains 
stronger than adamant, yet formed of despicable sana : — 
All the waves of vengeance and wrath, o. tribmation and 
anguish, passed over his crucihed body, and his agonizing 
soui : That we might einerge frum those depths oi mise- 
ry, from that abyss of guilt, into which wt were plunged 
by Adam's fall, and more irretrievably sunk by our own 
transgressions : That, at the' last, we might be restored 
to that happy world, v/hichis represented in the vision of 
God, as having no sea ;* to denote its perpetual stability, 
and undisturbed serenity. 

Ye mountains, that overlook the clouds, and project a, 
shade into distant provinces. Everlastmg pyramids of na- 
ture, not to be shaken by coijfiiciiiig elements ; not to be 
shattered by the bolts of thunder; nor impaired even by 
the ravages of time : — He who bids your ridges rise so 
high, and your foundations stand so fast ; He, in whose 
scale you are lighter than dust ; in whose eye you are 
less than nothing : He sunk beneath a load of woes ; 
woes insupportable, but not his oAvn ; when he took out 
iniquities upon himself, and heaved the more than moun- 
tainous burden from a guilty world. 

Ye verdant woods that crown our hills, and are crowned 
yourselves v/ith leafy honors : Ye humble shrubs, adorn- 
ed, in Spring, with opening blossoms ; and fanned, in 
Summer, by gentle gales : Ye, that in distant climes, op 
in cultivated gardens, breathe out spicy odours and em- 
balm the air VvHth spicy perfumes ;— Your all-glorious and 
ever-blessed Creator's head was encircled with the thorny 
wreath ; his face was defiled with contumelious spitting ; 
and his body bathed in a bloody sweat ; that we might 
wear the crown.— the crown of glory, which fadeth not a- 
"vvay ; and live for evermore, surrounded with delights, as 
much surpassing yours, as yours exceed the ruggedi des* 
olations of Winter. 

* Pv£Y. XJ^i, 1. 

OS 



162 A DESCANT 

Thou mantling vine ; He who hangs on thy slender 
shoots, the rich, uansparent, weighty cluster ; who, under 
thy unornamented foliage, and amidst the pores of thy 
otherwise worthless bough, prepares the liquor, the refin- 
ed and exalted liquor, which cheers the nations, and fills 
the cup of joy. — Trees, whose branches are elevated and 
waving in air ; or diffused in easy confinement, along a 
sunny wall ; He, who bends you with a lovely burden of 
delicious fruits ; whose genial warmth beautifies their 
rind, and mellows their taste ; — He, when voluntarily sub- 
ject to our wants, instead of being refreshed with your 
generous juices, or regaled with your luscious pulp ; had 
a loathsome portion of vinegar, mingled with gall, addres- 
sed to his lips : — That we might sit under the shadow of 
bis merits, with great tranquillity, and the utmost compla- 
cency :— That, ere long being admitted into the paradise of 
God, we might eat of the tree of life;* and drink new 
wine with him in his Father's kingdom. 

Ye luxuriant meadows ; He who, without the seed- 
man^s industry, replenishes your irriguous lap with never 
failing crops of herbage ; and enamels their cheerful green 
with flowers of every hue :— Ye fertile fields; He, who 
blesses the labors of the husbandman ; enriches your well- 
tilled plains with waving harvests, and calls forth the staff 
of life from your furrows : He, who causes both mead- 
ows and fields to laugh and sing, for the abundance of 
plenty : — He was no stranger to corroding hunger, and 
parching thirst; He, alas! eat the bitter bread of woe, 
and had " plenteousness of tears to drink !" — That we 
might partake of richer dainties, than those which are pro- 
duced by the dew of heaven, and proceed from the fatness 
of tlie earth : That we might feed on ''the hidden manna,'' 
and eat the bread v/hich giveth life, eternal life, unto the 
world. 

Ye mines, rich in yellow ore, or bright with veins of sil- 
ver ; that distribute your shining treasures, as far as winds 
can waft the vessels of commerce ; that bestow your alms 
on monarchs, and have princes for your pensioners : — ^Ye 
"beds of gems, toy-shops of Nature ! which form, in dark 
retirement, the glittering stone : Diamonds, that sparkle 
with a brilliant water ; Rubies, that glow with a crimson 
flame : Emeralds dipped in the freshest verdure of 

# Rev. ii. 7. 



UPON CREATION. I6J 

Spring : Sapphires, decked witn tae fairest drapery of the 
sky: Topaz, emblazed with a golden gieam : Amethyst, 
impLirpled with the blushes ot the niornhig : — He, who 
tinctures the metallic dust, and consolidates the lucid drop : 
He, when sojourning on earth, had no riches, but the ri- 
ches of disinterested benevolence ; had no ornameiit, but 
the ornament of unspotted purity. - Poor he was in his cir- 
cumstances, and mean in ail his accommodations : That 
\\Q might be rich in grace, and obtain ^' salvation with e- 
ternal glory : That we might inhabit the new^ Jeiusalem: 
that splendid city ! whose streets are paved wdth gold ; 
whose gates are formed of peaii : and the walls garnish- 
ed with all manrer of precious stones."* 

Ye gushing fountains, that trickle potable silver through 
the matted grass ; Ye fine transpareitt screams, that glide, 
in crystal waves, along your fringed banks : Ye deep and 
stately rivers, that v/ind and wander m your course, to 
spread your favors wider; that gladden kuigdomsin your 
progress, and augment the sea with your tribute : — He, 
who supplies all your currents from his own ever-flowing 
and inexhaustible liberality : he, when his nerves w^ere 
racked with exquisite pain, and his blood inflamed by a ra- 
ging fever, cried, I thirst ; and was denied (unparalleled 
hardship I) in this his great extremity, was denied the 
poor refreshment of a single drop of vrater :_That we, 
having all-sufficiency in all things, might abound to every 
good work ; might be filled with the fulness of spiritual 
blessings here, and hereafter be satisfied with that fulness 
of joy, which is at God's right hand for evermore. 

Ye birds, cheerful tenants of the bough, daily dressed 
in glossy plumage ; who wake the morn, and solace the 
groves, with your artless lays : Inimitable architects ; 
\ Who, without rule or line, build your pensile structures, 
\ with all the nicety of proportion : You have each his com- 
commodious nest, roofed with shades, and lined with 
Warmth, to protect and cherish the callow brood. — But he, 
who tuned your throats to harmony, and taught you that 
curious skill ; he was a man of sorrows, and had not where 
to lay his head, till he felt the "pmgs of dissolution, and 
was laid in the silent grave ;--That we, dwelling under 
the wbgs of Omnipotence, and resting in the bosom ofin- 

* Rev. XX i. 19. 21. 



A DESCANT 



finite love, might spend ?d\ harnioiiious eternity, in" sing-* 



liie song^ oi mioses and of the Lanib/' 



ijccs. mciubtiious v.oikmeni that sweep, with busy 
%'iiiig5 the liowery garden ; and search the blooniing 
heatii ; and sip the ineiliuuous dews; Strangers to idle- 
ness ! that ply. with ir.cessant assiduity, your pleasing 
task ; and suffer no opening biossoiii to pass U!:iexpiored5 
no sunny glearn to slip away unimproved : Most ingen- 
ious artificers 1 that cling to the fragrant bucis ; drain 
them of their treasured swtets; and extract (if 1 may so 
speak) even the odoriferous souls of herbs* and plrnts and 
iiuwers : — You, when you have completed your '.^ork ; 
have collected, ref.ned, and securel) lodged tne ambro- 
sicd stores ; when you miglit reasonably expect the peace- 
ful fruition of your acquisitions ; you, alas i are barba- 
rously destroyed, and leave your hoarded delicacies to 
others; leave them to be enjoyed by your very murder- 
ers. I cannot but pity your hard destiny I — How then 
should my bowels melt with sympathy, and my eyes flow 
witli tears,* when I remember, that thus, — tiius it fared 
with your and our incarnate Maker ! After a life of the 
most exemplary and exalted piety ; a life, filled with offi- 
ces of beneii:.ence, and labors ot love ; he was, by wicked 
hands, crucified and slain. He left the honey of his toil, 
the balm of his blood, and the riches of his obedience, to 
be shared among others ; to be shared even among 
those w^ho too often crucify him afresh, and put him to o- 
pen shame. 

Shall I mention the animal, f which spins her soft, her 

* Canst thou ungrateful man, his toriTients see, 

Nor drop a lear for him, who pour'd his blood for thee ? 

Pitt's Poein^ 

t No one, I hope, will be ciTended at my introducrng, on such an 
cccasion, creaiuie? of so low a rank. Since even the volumes cf in- 
spiration, seem to lend me the sanction of ihcir iacred authority; 
as they disdain not to compare the bles?:ed Je^us to a door, a high- 
way, kc. And perhaps, all comparisons which respect a Being of 
infinite dignity, are not only mean, but equally mean and unworthy. 

I am, sensible likevs ise, that 'm this paragraph and some others^ 
all the circumstances are not completely correspondent, :feut if, in 
some g» end particulars, the reddif ion answers to the description, this, 
I trust, w ill be sui^c'ent for my |/urpose, and satisfactory to my rea- 
dei'S. Perhaps, it would be no naistaken caution, to apply the saxpe 



UPON CREATION. 165 

shining, her exquisitely fine silken thread ? whose match- 
less manufactures lend an ornament to grandeur, ai^d make 
royalty itself more magnificei.t. — Shall 1 take notice of 
the cell, in which, when the gaiety and business of life are- 
over, the little recluse immures herself, and spends the re- 
mainder of her days in retirement ? — Shall 1 rather ob- 
serve the sepulchre, which, when cloyed with pleasure 
and weary of the world, she prepares for her own inter- 
ment ? Or how, when a stated period is elapsed, she 
wakes- fi'om a death-like inactivity ; breaks the inciosuie of 
her tomb ; throws off the dusky shroud; assumes a new 
form ; puts on a more sum[:tuou3 array ; and, f;orn an in- 
sect, creeping on the ground, becomes a winged inhabit- 
ant of the air ? — No : This is a poor reptile ; and there* 
fore unworthy to serve as an illustration, when any char- 
acter of the Son of God comes under consideration. But 
let me correct myself, was not Christ (to use the language 
of his ovvn blessed spirit) '• a worm and no man V* in 
appearance such, and treated as such. Did he not also be- 
queath the fine linen of his own most perfect righteous- 
ness, to compose the marriage-garmentt for our disarray- 

O'jSStvatlon to many of the beautiful smiilitiides, parables, and alle- 
gories, used by our Lord : such as the brazen serpenr, the unjust 
steward, the tliiel in the nig]u,&.c. which, if scrupulously sifred, or 
Tigorously strained, for an entire coincidence in every circua^.srance, 
inust appear to great disadvantage, and lead uico palpable inconven- 
iences. 

* Psalm xxii, 6. 

j Thi?, and ^eve»-al other hints^ interspersed in the two volumes, 
refer to the active and passive vighreouiricsscr Cnrj^r, iiYwrj.ed to 
believers, for their jus tinea don : Which, in the opinion of n-any 
\ great eKpositois, is the iriysfica! and the most tublime me%!iing of 
{the wedding-garnnent./o eoiphatically atid forcibly reccn'merdedby 
the Teacher sent from Gocl, Match, xxii. 11. A doctrine, which 
some oi those who honou- my Meditations with a perusal, probably 
may not receive with much, if any apptobation. i hope, the whole 
performance will nor be cashieicd, for one d.tterence in sentiment. 
Andl beg. that the sentiment itself may not hastih^ be rejecttd, 
without a serious hearing. For I have tiie pleasure of being uni- 
mately acquainted 'A-ith a, gentleman of good learnirig, ard distin- 
guished seuce, who had once as strong prepossessions against this te- 
net as can well be imagined. Yet now he not only admits it as a 
truth, but embraces it as the joy of his heart j and cleaves to it, as the 
rpck of his hopes. 



166 A DESCANT 

ed and defiled souls ? Did he not, before his flesh saw cor- 
ruption, emerge triumphant from the grave ; and not only 
rnouHt the lower firmament, but ascend the heaven oi hea- 
vens ; taking possession of those sublime abodes, in our 
name, and as our forerunner ? 

Ye cattle, that rest in your inclosed pastui^s : Ye 
beasts, that range the unlimited forest : Ye fish that roVe 
through trackless paths of the sea : Sheep, clad in garm- 
ents, which, when left by you, are wore by Kings : Kine, 

A clear and cogent treatise, entitled, Submission to the righteous- 
ness of God. was the instrument of rennoving his prejudices, and re* 
duc'^Ffg him to a better judgment' In which he has been happily- 
confirmed, by the authority of the most illustrious names, and the 
works of the most eminent pens, that have ever adorned our church 
and nation. In this number are, Bishop Jewel, one of our greatest 
reformers, and the other venerable compilers of our honailies i Arch- 
bishop Usher, that oracle of universal learning; Bishop Hall, the 
devout and sprightly orator of his age, — the copious and iervent 
Bishop Hopkins, — ^^the singularly good and unaifecied Bishop B eve- 
ridge,— that everlasTing honour of the bench of judicature. Lord 
Chief Justice Hale, — the nervous, florid, and persuasive Dean Stan- 
hope,— the practical and perspicuous Mr. Burkiit ; and, to summon 
no other evidence, that matchless genius Milton ; who, in various 
parts of his divine poem, inculcates this comfortable truth ; and in 
one passage, reprebenrs it under the very same image, which is 
made u^e of above, book Z. line 222. 

I had almost forgot to nriention, that the treatise intitled Submis- 
sion, '^.c- vras written by Mr Benjamin Jenks; whose book of devo- 
tions has deservedly passed *hvcugh eleven editions ; is truly admi- 
rable for the sublimity', and spiritualhy, and propriety of the senti- 
ments ; as well as for the concise form, and pathetic turn of the ex- 
pression : V^'boEe book of Meditations^ though no less worthy of 
general acce])tance, has, ier a considerable time, been almost un- 
known and extinct ; but it is new revived, and is lately republished, 
in two octavo volumes, by Mr James Riyington. For which ser- 
vice he has my thanks. I flatter m>self, he w li have the thanks 
of the public ; as I am persuaded could religion and virtue speak, 
he would have their acknowledgments also- Since few treatises 
aiemore happily calculated to represent religion in its native beauty, 
and to promote the interests of genuine virtne. On which account, 
I trust, the candid v^\\\ excuse me, and the judicious will not condemn 
iT't. even though the recommendation of those devotions, and of 
these meditations, may appear to be a digression from my subject. 

N. E. Should the reader be inclined to examine the afore-men- 
tioned tenet^ he will find it stated, discusred, and applied to its due 
improvement, in a piece entitled, *• Theron and Aspasio,*' wiitten 
by Mr. Hervey. 



UPON CREATION. 167 

who feed on verdure, which transmuted in your bodies, 
and stiai^.iedl from your udders, furnishes a repast for 
Qat,CMS : Lions, roarir\g after your prey ; Leviathan, ta- 
king your pastifiie in the great deep ; vrith ail that wing 
the firmament, or tread the soil ; or swim the wave : — 
He, v/ho spreads his ever hospitable board ; who admits 
you all to be his continual guests : sod suffers you to want 
no manner of thing that is good : — He was destitute," af- 
flicted, tormented : He endured ail that was miseia.bie and 
reproachful ; in order to exalt a degenerate race, who 
had debased themselves to a level with the beasts that per- 
ish, unto seats of distinguished and immortal honor ; in 
order to introduce the slaves of sin, and heirs of hell, into 
mansions of consummate and everlasting bliss. 

Surely, the contemplation of such a subject, and the 
distant anticipation of such a hope, n^.ay almost turn earth 
into heaven, and make even inanimate Nature vocal with 
praise. Let it then break from every creature. Let the 
meanest feel the inspu'ing impulse ; let the greatest ac- 
knowledge themselves unable, worthily to express the 
stupendous goodness. 

Praise him, ye insects that crawl on the ground ; who, 
though high above all height, humbled himself to dwell 
in dust. Birds of the air, waft on your wings, and warble 
in your notes, His praise ; who, though Lord of the celes- 
tial abodes, v/hiie sojourning on earthjWanted a shelter com- 
modious as your nests — Ye rougher vrorld of brutes, join 
with the ger.tle songsters of the shade, and howl to him 
your hoarse applause; who breaks the jav/ bones of the 
infernal lion ; who softens into mildness the savage dispo- 
sition ; and bids the wolf lie down, in amicable agreement 
with the Lamb. Bleat out, ye hills ; let broader lows be 
responsive from the vales ; ye forests catch, and ye rocks 
retain, the inarticulate hymn ; because Messiah the Prince 
'' feeds his flock, like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs 
with his arm ; he carries them in his bosom ; and gently 
leads those that are with ycung."*-— Wave, ye stately ce- 
dars, in sign of worship, wave your branching heads to 
him, who meekly bov/ed his own on the accursed tree. 
Pleasing prospect, scenes of beauty, where nicest Art 
conspires with lavish Nature, to form a paradise below ; 
luy fortli all } ear charms, and in all your charms confess 

# Isa. xl.. 12, 



168 /A DESCANT 

yourselves a mere blank, compared with his amiableness, 
who is " fairest among ten thousand, and altogether love- 
ly."— Drop down, ye showers ; and testify, as you fall ; 
testify of his grace, which descends more copiously than 
the rain; distils more sweetly than the dew. Let sighing 
gales breathe, and murmuring rivulets flow ; breathe and 
flow, in harmonious consonance to him ; whose spirit is far 
more reviving, than the cooling breeze ; who is himself 
the fountain of living waters. 

Ye lightnings, blaze to his honor ; ye thunders, sound 
his praise ; while reverberating clouds return the roar, and 
bellowing oceans propagate the tremendous anthem.— . 
Mutest of creatures, add your silent oratory, and display 
the triumphs of his meekness ; who, though he maketh 
the clouds his chariot, and treadeth upon the waves of the 
sea ; though the thunder is his voice, and the lightning 
his s word of justice; yet, ariiidst the most abusive and 
cruel injuries, was submissive and lifted not his hand, 
was " dumb and opened not his mouth.'* — Great Source 
of day, address thy radiant homage to a far sublimer sun. 
Write, in all thy ample round, with every lucid beam— 
O ! write a testimony to him, who is the brightness of his 
Father's glory ; who is the Sun of righteousness to a.sin- 
ful world : and is risen, never to go down ; is risen to be 
our everlasting light. — Shine clear, ye skies ; look gay, 
thou earth ; let the floods cla^) their hands, and let every 
creature wear a smile : For he cometh, the Creator him- 
self Cometh, to be manifested in the flesh ; and with him 
comes pardon, peace, and joy; every virtue, and all felici- 
ty, comes in his train. — Angels and archangels, let your 
songs be of Jesus, and teach the very heavens to echo with 
his adored and majestic name. Ye beheld him. with grea- 
ter transports of admiratioD, when you attended his agony 
in the garden, and saw him prostrate on the grr.und, than 
when you beheld universal Nature rising at his call, and 
saw the wonders of his creating might. Tane to loftiest 
notes your golden harps, and waken raptures unknown 
before even in heavenly breasts ; wMle all that has breath, 
swells the concert of harmonjr ; and ail that has being, u- 
nites in the tributes of praise. 

Chiefly, let man exalt his voice ; let Tr>an, with distin- 
guished hosannas, hail the Redeemer. For man he was 
stjQtched on the racking cross > for man he was consign- 



UPON CREATION. 16^ 

ed to the gloomy sepulchre ; for man he procured grace 
unmeasurable, and bliss inconceivable. — However differ- 
ent, therefore, in your age, or more different in your cir- 
cumstances, be unanimous, O men, in magnifying a Sav- 
iour, who is no respecter of persons, who gave himself a 
ransom for all. — Bend, ye Kings, from your thrones of iv- 
ory and gold ; in your robes of imperial purple, fall pros- 
trate at his feet ; who forsook a nobler throne, and laid a- 
side more illustrious ensigns of majesty, that you might 
reign with God for ever and ever. — Children of poverty, 
meanest of mortals (if any can be called poor, who are 
thus enriched ; if any can be accounted mean, who are 
thus ennobled) rejoice, (greatly rejoice, in God your Sav- 
iour ; who chose to be indigent, was willing to be contem- 
ned, that you might be entitled to the treasures, and be 
numbered with the princes of heaven. — Sons of affliction, 
though harassed with pain, and inured to anguish, O I 
change your groans into songs of gratitude. Let no com- 
plaining voice, no jarring string be heard, in the universal 
symphony ; but glorify the Lamb even in the fires :* who 
himself bore greater torment, than you feel ; and has pro- 
mised you a share in the joy, which he inherits ; who has 
made your sufferings short, and will make your rest ete*^ 
nal. — Men of hoary locks, bending beneath a weight of 
years, and tottering on the brink of the grave ; let Christ 
be your support, under all infirmities ; lean upon Christ, 
as the rock of your salvation. Let his name, his precious, 
name, form the last accents, which quiver on your pale ex- 
piring lips. — And let this be the first, that lisps on your 
tongues, ye tender infants. Remember your Redeemer, 
in your earliest moments. Devote the choice of youi^ 
hours to the learning of his will, and the chief of youT 
strength to the glorifying of his name ; who, in the per- 
fection of health, and the very prime of manhood, was con-^ 
tent to become a motionless and ghastly corpse, that you 
might be girt with the vigor, and clothed with the bloom, 
of eternal youth. 

Ye spirits of just men made perfect, who are released 
from the burden of the flesh ; and freed from all the vexa- 
tious solicitations of corruption in yourselves ; delivered 
fix)m all the injurious effects of iniquity in others ; who 50- 

♦ Isaixxiv, I^ 



170, A BESCANT 

journ no longer in the tents of strife, or the territories of 
disorder ; but are received into that pure, harmonious, ho- 
ly society, where every one acts up to his amiable and ex- 
alted character ; where God himself is pleased gracious- 
ly and immediately to preside. — You find, not without 
pleasing astonishment, your hopes improved into actual 
enjoytiient, and your faith superceded by the beatific vis- 
ion. You feel all your former shyness of behaviour, hap- 
pily lost in the overflowings of unbounded love ; and all 
your little differences of opinion, entirely bore down by 
tides of invariable truth. Bless, therefore, with all your 
enlarged powers, bless his infinitely larger goodness ; 
who, when he had overcome the sharpness of death, o- 
penedthe gates of paradise, opened the kingdom of heav- 
en, to all generations, and to every denomination of the 
faithful. 

Ye men of holy conversation, and humble tempers, 
think of him, who loved you, and washed you from your 
sins in his own blood. Tnink of him^ on your silent couch ; 
talk of him, in every social interview. Glory in his ex- 
cellencies ; make your boast of his obedience ; and add, 
still continue to add, the incense of a dutiful life, to all the 
oblations of a grateful tongue. — Weakest- of believers, 
who go mourrdng under a sense of guilt, and coi flicting 
with the ceaseless assaults of temptation ; put off your 
sackcloth, and be girded with gladness. Because Jesus is 
as merciful to hear^ as he is mighty to help. Because he 
is touched with the tenderest sympathizing concern, for 
all your distresses ; and he lives, ever lives, to be your Ad- 
vocate with the Father. Why then should uneasy doubts 
sadden your countenances ? why should desponding fears 
oppress your souls ? Turn, turn those disconsolate sighs 
into cheerful hymns ; since you have his powerful inter- 
cession, and his inestimable merits, to be your anchor m 
all tribulations, to be .your passport into eternal blessed- 
ness. 

Most of all, ye ministers of the sanctuary, heralds com- 
missioned from above, lift, every oue, his voice like a trum- 
pet, and loudly proclaim the Redeemer. Get ye up, ye 
ambassadors of peace, get ye up into the high mountains ? 
and spread far and wide the honors ^f the Lamb, '' that 
was slain, but is alive for evermore." Teach every sa- 
cred roof, to resound with his fame ; and eveiy humein 



UPON CREATION. 17i 

heart, to glow with his love. Declai'e, as far as the 
force of words will go, declare the inexhaustible fulness of 
that great atonement, whose merits are commensurate 
with the glories of the Divinity * Tell the sinful wretch, 
what [jity yearns in Immanuel's bowels ; what blood he 
has spilt, what agonies he has endured, what wonders he 
has wrought for the salvation of his enemies. Invite the 
indigent, to become rich ; entreat the guilty, to accept of 
pardon ; l^ecause with the crucified Jesus is plenteous re- 
demption, and all-sufficiency to save. — ^While you, placed 
in conspicuous stations, pour the joyful sound ; may I, as 
I steal througn the vale of human life, catch the pleasing 
accents ? For me, the Author of all blessings became a 
curse ! for me, his bones were dislocated, and his flesh 
was toni ; he hung with streaming veins, and an agonizing 
soul, on the cross for me. O ! may L in my little sphere, 
and amidst the scanty circle of my acquaintance, at least 
whisper these giad transporting tidings; whisper them 
from my own heart, that they may surely reach, and sweet- 
ly penetrate theirs. 

But, when men and angels raise the grand hymn; when 
all worlds, a. id all beings, add their collective acclama- 
tions ; this full, fervent, and universal chorus, will be so 
inferior to the riches of the Redeemer's grace ; so dispro- 

* If in this place and others;, I have spoken magn'ficently of 
the blood ot" Oinst, and i:s msiiper-ole eiiicacy to expiate guilt ; I 
ih/Pik, it is no more than is expressed in a very celebrated hy nan, 
written by one of the greate-t w its, who had also been one of the 
greatest libertines, and afterwards commenced one oF the most re- 
markable peniients, in France. A hymn, which even Mr. Bayle 
confesses to be a very fijiC one; which another great critic calU an 
Jidnnirable one ; and which a genius suj)er?cr to thern both, recom- 
mends as a noble one. (See Spect, vol. VII. No 513 ) 

The aathor, having acknowledged his crinaes to be beyond nneas» 
nre heinoas. and auDCSt beyond forgiveness provoki.ig ; £0 provok- 
ing, as to render tears from such eyes ciTensive, and prayers from 
.such lips 2bomin?Jo]e ;— composes himself to submit, without the 
least repining sentiment ; to subniiit, even v/ich praise and adora- 
tion, to the most d.eadful doom. Accordingly, he stands in resign- 
ed expectation of being instantly struck b>Mhe bolts of vengeance ; 
But— with a turn of thought equally surprising and sprighUy j with 
a faith properly founded, and happUy firm ; he adds. 

Yet where! O where I can ev'n thy thunders fall ? 
Christ's blood o'erspreads, and shields me from them all. 



iTjg A BESGANT, S«C. 

portlonate to the magnificence of his glory, that it wili 
seem but to debase the unutterable subject it attempts 
tp exalt The loud hallelujah will die away, in the sol- 
emn mental eloquence of prostrate, rapturous, silent ad- 
oration. 

O Goodness infinite ! Goodness immense ! 

And Love that passeth knowledge ! — Words are vain ^ 

Language is lost in wonders so divine. 

Goim th§n, expressive Silence, muse his praise.'* 



iSiD OF THE FIRST yOLVHE,. 



MEDITATIONS 



AND 



CONTEMPLATIONS. 



IN TWO VOLUMES. 



COXTAINI^'G, 

VOLUME L VOLUME XL 



Meditations among the 
Tombs ; 

Reflections on a Flower- 
Gar den Jr' 

and, 

A Descant upon Creation. 



Contennplsitions on the 
Night ; 

Contemplations on the Starry- 
Heavens ; 

and, 

A Winter Piece. 



BY JAMES HERVEY, A. M. 

J.ATE RECTOR OF WKSTON-FAVELL, N OP.TH AMPTO;* SHI RE- 



TWO VOLUMES IN ONE, 



BRATTLEBOROUGH : 
PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM FESSENDEN^ 



TO 

PAUL ORCHARD, 

OF STOKE-ABBEY, IN DEVONSHIRE, ESQ. 

D£AR SIR, 

AS your honoured father was pleased to make choice 
of me to answer in your name at the font, and to exercise 
a sort of guardianship over your spiritual interests; per- 
mit me, by putting these little treatises into your hand, to 
fulfil some paii of that solemn obligation. 

Gratitude for many signal favors, and a conscientious 
regard to ray sacred engagement, have long ago inspired 
my breast with the warmest wises, both for your true dig- 
nity, and real happiness. Nor can I think of a more en- 
dearing, or a moie effectual w^ay, of advancing either of 
the one or the other, than to set before you a sketch of 
j'our excellent father's character. Illustrious actions are 
the most winning incitements to virtue. And none can 
come attended with such particular recommendations to 
you, sir, as the pattern of that worthy person, from whom 
you derived your very being. 

A most cordial and reverential esteem for the divine 
word, was one of his remarkable qualities. Those oracles 
of Heaven were his principal delight, and his mseparable 
companions. Your gardens, your solitary walks, and the 
hedges of your fields, can witness,* w^ith what an unwea- 
ried assiduity he exercised himself in the law of the Lord. 
From hence he fetched his maxims of wisdom, and form- 
ed his judgment of things. The sacred precepts were 
the model of his temper, and the guide of his life ; while 
the precious promises were the joy of his heart, and his 
portion for ever. 

Improving company was another of his most relishing 
pleasures. Few gentlemen were better furni-hed, either 
with richness of ifancy, or copiousness of expression, to 
bear a shining part in conversation. With these talents, 
he always endeavoured to give some useful, generally 
some religious, turn to the discourse. Nor did he ever 

John XX iv. Sr. 



17^ DEDICATION. 

reflect, with greater complacency, on his social hours, 
than when they tended to glorify the Eternal Majesty ; and 
to awaken, in himself and others, a more lirely spirit of 
devotion. 

To project for the good of others, was his frequent stu- 
dy ; and to carry those benevolent contrivances into exe- 
cution, his favourite employ. V\^hen visited by the young 
persons of the neighborhood, far from taking an ungrace- 
ful pride to initiate them in debauchery, or confirm them 
in a riotous habit ; it was his incessant aim, by finely adap- 
ted persuasives, to encourage them in industry, and estab» 
lish them in a course of sobriety ; to guard them against 
the allurements of vice, and animate them with the prin° 
ciples of piety. A noble kind of hospitality this ! which 
will probably transmit its beneficial inflAience to their 
earthly possessions, to their future families, and even to 
their everlasting state. 

A conviction of human indigence, and a thorough per- 
suasion of the Divine All-sufficiency, induced him to be 
frequent in prayer, to prostrate himself, in profound ado- 
ration, before that infinitely exalted Being, who dwells in 
light inaccessible, was his ^lory ; to implore the continu- 
ance of the Almighty favour, and the increase of all Chris- 
tian graces, was his gain. In those moments, no doubt, 
he remembered you, sir, with a particular earnestness ; 
and lodged many an ardent petition in the Court of Hea- 
ven, for his infant-son. Cease not to second them with 
your own devout supplications, that they may descend up- 
on your head, " in the fulness of the blessings of the Gos- 
pel of peace." *^ 

To give their genuine lustre to all his other endow- 
ments, he was careful to maintain an humble mind. 
Though his friends might admire his superior abilities, or 
his acquaintance applaud his exemplary behaviour, he saw 
how far he fell short of the mark of his high calling ; saw. 
and lamented his defects ; saw, and renounced himself; 
relying for final acceptance, and endless felicity, on a bet- 
ter righteousness than his own ; even on the transcendant- 
ly perfect righteousness, and inconceivably precious death, 
of Jesus the Redeemer. This was the rock of his hope, 
and the very crown of his rejoicing. 

These, sir, are some of the distinguishing characteris- 
tics of your deceased parent As you had the misfortune 



DEDICATION. 177 

to lose so valuable a relative, before you was capable of 
forming any acquaintance with his person ; I flatter my- 
self, you will the more attentively observe his pictures 
This his moral picture; designed not to be set in gold, or 
sparkle in enamel, but to breathe in your spirit, and to live 
in all your conduct. — Which, though it be entirely your 
own, calculated purely for yourself, may possibly (like the 
family-pieces in your parlour, that glance an eye upon as 
many as enter the room,) make some pleasing and useful 
impression on every beholder. — May every one, charmed 
with thejbeautiful image, catch its resemblance ; and each, 
in his respective sphere, " go and do likewise.'' 

But you, sir, are peculiarly concerned to copy the amia- 
ble original. As the order of an indulgent Providence has 
made you heir of the affluent circumstances, let not a gay 
and thoughtless inadvertence cut you off from the richer 
inheritance of these noble qualifications — These will be 
your security, amidst all the glittering dangers, which are 
inseparable from blooming years and an elevated situation 
in life. These are your path, your sure and only path, to 
true greatness, and solid happiness. — Tread in these steps, 
and you cannot fail to be the darling of your friends, and 
the favorite of Heaven. Tread in these steps, and you 
will give inexpressible joy to the best of mothers ; you 
will become an extensive blessing to your fellow creatures ; 
and, which, after such most engaging motives, is scaixely 
worthy to be mentioned, you will be the delight, ths hou" 
QUr, and the boast of, 

Dear Sir, 

Your very affectionate Godfather, 

And most faithful humble servant, 

' JAMES HERVEY, 

Weston-Favell^ near Korihamliton^ \ 
July 14, 1747. 



PREFACE. 



WE have already exercised our speculations on the 
tombs and flowers ; surveying Nature, covered with the 
deepest horrors, and arrayed in the ri. hest Leaiuies. Al- 
legory taught iiiany of the objects to speak the hm^^'Viagc 
of vii'tue, while Imitation lent her colouring- to c^ive the 
lessons an engaging air. And this, with a view of imitat- 
ing that Divine Instructor ; who commissioned the lily 5* 
in her silver suit, to remonstrate in thee-ir of unbelievir:g, 
reason ; who sent his disciples (men ordained to teach the 
universe) to learn maxims of the last importance, from 
the most insigniiicant birdsj* that wander through the 
paths of the aif ; from the very meanest herbs,* that are 
scattered over the face of the ground. f 



^ * * jMth, vl. 26, 28, 29, 30. 

f Celebrated writers, as Demosthenes an ^"^ """:'-^^">, Tbucydides 
and Livy, are observed to have a stile p;^ :■ t.itiiisdves, 

Now, wboever eoiisiders the discourses g^ ^. ,1 ., v:iU find liim 
distinguishing himself bv a style, wbich mr' pr ^pcrly be called 
his own. 31ajestic, jet familiar, happily iil :';':• ^^^nity with 
condescension : it consists in teaebing hi- ibi:' :^ :^ie snblim- 
est truths hy spiritualizing on tho most co^ivr-Z'^: c^ e:^rrence3 : 
Which, besides its being level to the lowest apurrbaiisions. and 
admirably adapted to steal into the most inaLteiiti"e heart, is 
accompanied with this very singular advaiitage, that it turns 
even the sphere of business into a school 01 insin.ction, and ren- 
ders the most ordinary objects a set of inoiiiiors, ever soliciting 
our regard, because ever present to our senses. — So that I be- 
lieve, it may be said of thi^ amiable nieihod in which our Lord 
conveyed, as vrell as cf that po.verful energy which a^ttended 
his doctrines, That never nnn spike like this man. — The har- 
vest approaching, he reminds his disciples of a far more impor- 
tant harvest, John jv. 35. Mat. xiii. 39. when immortal beings 
shall be reaped from the grave, and gathered in from all the 
quarters of the earth ; when every human creature shall sustain 
the character of vahaable wheat, or despicable tares ; and ac- 
cordingly be lodged in mansions of everlasting security, or con- 
signed over to the rage of unquenchable lire. In his charge to 
fishermen, when they are commencing preachers, Matth. iv. 19. 
he e:shorts them, conformably to the nature of their late occu- 



PREFACE. 179 

Emboldened by the kind acceptance of the preceding 
sketches, 1 be^ leave to confide in the same benevolence 
of taste, for the protection and support of the two remain- 
ing ess;iys; which exhibit a prospect of still life, and 
gfi'and operation, which moralize on the most composed, 
ind most magnificent, appearances of things. — In which. 
Fancy is again suffered to introduce her imagery, but on- 
ly as the handmaid of Truth, in order to dress her person, 
and display her charms ; to engage the attention, and win 
the love, even of the gay, and of the fashionable. Which 
is more likely to be effected, by forming agreeable pic- 
tures of Nature, and deriving instructive observations, 
than by the laborious method of long-deduced ixrguments, 
or close connected reasonings. — The Contemplation of 
the Heavens and the Earth, of their admirable properties 
and beneficial changes, has always afforded the most ex- 
alted gratification to the human mind. In com.pliance 
with this preva.iiing taste, I have drawn my serious admo- 
nitions from the stupendous theatre, and variegated scene- 
ry, of the universe : that the reader may learn his duty 
from his veiy pleasures ; — may gather wisdom, mingled 
with virtue, from the most refined entertainments, and no- 
blest delights. 

The evening, drawing her sables over the world, and 
jently darkening into night, is a season peculiarly proper 
for sedate consideration. All circumistances concur, to 
hush our passions, and soothe our cares; to tempt our 
steps abroad, and prompt our thoughts to serious reflec-' 
tion. 

-Then is the tim.e, 



For those whom Wisdom, and whom Nature charm, 

To steal themseives from the degen'rate croud. 

And soar above this little scene o£things ; 

To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet ; 

To sooth the throbbing passions into peace ; 

And woo lone quiet in her silent walks. 

Thompson's auiumn, 1. 97S. 

pation, to use the same assiduity and address, in winning souls, 
as they were wont to exercise in catching the finny prey. — For 
the further illustration of this no less useful than curious sub[ect, 
I would refer my reader to a valuable note in Sir Isaac New- 
ton's Observations on the Prophecies, p. 143, 4to edition. 



180 PREFACE. 

The favor I would solicit for the first of the following 
compositions, is, that it may be permitted to attend, in such 
retired and contemplativ e excursions ; to attend, if not un- 
der the character of a friend, at least, in the humble capa- 
city of a servant, or a page : — As a servant to open the 
door of meditation, and remove every impediment to those 
best exercises of the mind ; which blend advantage with 
amusement, and improve, while they delight : — As a page, 
to gather up the unstable^ fluctuating train of Fancy ; and 
collect her fickle powers into a consistent, regular, and 
useful habit of thinking. 

The other, conversant among the starry regions, would 
lead the imagination through those beautiful tracts of un- 
clouded azure : and point out to the judgment some of 
those astonishing particulars, which so eminently signal- 
ize the celestial worlds. A prospect this, to which curi- 
osity attracts our eyes, and to which scripture itself of- 
ten directs our study : a prospect, beyond all others most 
excellently calculated, to enlarge the soul, and ennoble its 
conceptions; to give the grandest apprehensions of the 
everlasting God, and create sentiments of becoming supe- 
riority, with relation to all transitory interests :— In a word, 
to furnish faith with the surest foundation for a steady af- 
fiance, and true magnanimity of spirit ;_to afford piety the 
strongest motives, both for a lively gratitude, and profound 
veneration. 

While Galilaeo lifts his tube, and discovers the prodig- 
ious magnitude of those radiant orbs ; while Newton mea- 
sures their amazing distances, and unites the whole system 
in harmonious order, by the subtle influences of attraction: 
I would only, like the herald before that illustrious He- 
4)rew,* proclaim, at every turn, " Bow the knee, and adore 
the Almighty Maker ; magnify his eternal name, and make 
l\is praise, like all his works, to be glorious/* 

Gen. xlL 43. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

ON THE NIGHT. 



Night is fair Virtue's immemorial friend : 

The conscious Moon through ev'ry distant age, 

Has held a lamp to Wisdom. 

Night Thoughts f No. V, 



THE business of the day dispatched, and the sultry 
heats abated, invited me to the recreation of a walk ; a 
walk in one of the finest recesses of the country, and in 
one of the most pleasing evenings which the summer-sea- 
sons produced. 

The limes and elms, uniting their branches over my 
head, formed a verdant canopy, and cast a most refreshing 
shade. Under my feet lay a carpet of Nature's velvet; 
grass intermingled with moss, and embroidered with flow- 
ers. Jessamines, in conjunction with woodbines, twined 
around the trees, displaying their artless beauties to the 
eye, and diffusing their delicrous sweets through the air. 
On either side, the boughs rounded into a set of regular 
arches, opened a view into the distant fields, and present- 
ed me with a prospect of the bending skies. The little 
birds, all joyous and grateful for the favours of the light, 
were paying their acknov/ledgments in a tribute of harmo- 
ny, and soothing themselves to rest with songs. While 
a French-horn, from a neighbouring seat, sent its melodi- 
ous accents, softened by the length of their passage, to 
complete the concert of the grove. 

Roving in this agreeable mannerj my thoughts were ex- 
ercised on a subject still more agreeable than the season, 
or the scene, I mean, our late signal victory over the unit-* 
ed forces of intestine treason, and foreign invasion : a vie* 
tory, which pours joy through the present age, and will 
transmit its influence to generations yet unborn. — ^Are n«C 
all the blessings, which can endear society; or render life 

Q 



182 CONTEMPLATIONS 

itself desirable, centred in our present happy constitution 
and auspicious government ? Were they not all struck at, 
by that impious and horrid blow, meditated at Rome, lev- 
elled by France, and seconded by factious spirits at home ? 
Who then can be sufficiently thankful for the gracious in- 
terposition of Providence, which has not only averted the 
impending ruin, but turned it, with aggravated confusion, 
on the authors of our troubles ? 

Methinks, every thing valuable which I possess, eveiy 
thing charming which 1 behold, conspire to enhance this 
ever memorable event. To this it is owing, that I can 
ramble unmolested along the vale of life, and taste all the 
innocent satisfactions of a contemplative retirement — ^Had 
rebellion* succeeded in her detestable designs ; instead 
of walking with security and complacence in these flowe- 
ry paths, i might have met the assassin with his dagger; 
or have been obliged to abandon m,y habitation, and '' em- 
brace the rock for a shelter." — Farewell then, ye fragrant 
shades ; seats of meditation, and calm repose ! 1 should 
have been driven frorr your loved retreats, to make way 
fbrsome barbarous, some insulting victor. — Farewell then, 
ye pleasing toils, and wholesome amusements of my rural 
Lours I I should ro more have reared the tender flower 
to the sun ; no more have taught the espalier to expand 
her boughs; nor have fetched, any longer, from my kitch- 
en garden, the purest supplies of health. 

Had Re- ellion succeeded in her detestable designs ; in- 
&tead of being regaled with the music of \he woods, I 
might have been alarmed with the sound of the trumpet, 
and all the thunder of %var. Instead of being entertained 
•with this beautiful landscape, I might have beheld cur 
houses ransacked, and our villages plundered; I might 
have beheld our fenced cities encomipassed with armies, 
mid our fruitful fields " clothed with desolaticn ;'* or have 
been shocked with the more frightful images of " gar- 
ments rolled in blood,'* and of a ruffian's blade reeking 
from a brother's heart. Instead of Peace with her cheer- 
iog olives, sheltering our abodes ; instead of Justice, %vith 

, * Referring to the rebellion, set on foot in the year 1/45 ; vrhich, i 
for several months, made a very alarming progress in the North; i 
biut was happily extinguished by the glorious and decisive victory at 
CuUpden. 



ON THE NIGHT. 183 

her impartial scale, securing our goods ; Persecution had 
brandished her sword, and Slavery clanked her chains. 

Nor are these miseries imaginary only, or the creatures 
of a groundless panic. There are, in a neighbouring king- 
donj, who very lately experienced them in all their rigor.* 
And, if the malignant spirit of Popery had forced itself m- 
to our church ; if an abjured Pretender had cut his way 
to our throne; we could have no reason to expect a miti- 
gation of their severity, on our behalf. But; supposing 
the tei ;der mercies of a big:oted usurper to have been some 
what less cruel } where, alas ! would have been the en- 
couragement to cultivate our little portion ; or what plea- 
sure could arise from an improved spot ; if both the one 
and the other lay, every momenty at the mercy of lawless 
power ? This embittering circumstance would spoil their 
rehsh ; and by rendering them a precarious, would render 
them a joyless acquisition. — In vain might the vine spread 
her purple clusters ; in vain be lavish of her generous jui- 
ces ; Tyranny, like a ravinous harpy, would be always ho- 
vering over the bowl, and ready to snatch it from the lip 
of Industry, or to wrest it from the hand of Liberty. 

Liberty, that dearest of names ; and Property, that best 
of (barters, give an additional, an expressible charm, to 
every delightful object. See how the declining sun has 
beautified the western clouds ; has arrayed them in crim- 
son, and skirted them with gold. Such a refinement of our 
domestic bliss, is property ; such an improvement of our 
public privileges, is liberty. — When the Lamp of day shall 
withdraw his beams, there will still remain the same col- 
lection of floating vapours; but O! how changed, how 
gloomy! The carnation-streaks are faded; the golden 
edgings are worn away ; and all the lovely tinges are lost, 
in a leaden coloured louring sadness. Such w^ould be the 
aspect of all these scenes of beauty, and all these abodes 
of pleasure, if exposed continually to the caprice of arbi- 
trary sway, or held in a state of abject and cringing de- 
pendance. 

The sun has almost finished his daily race, and hastens 

* See a pamphlet, entitled, Popery always the same. — Which con- 
tains a narrative of the persecutions, and severe hardships, lately suf- 
fered hv the Protestants, in the southern parts of France ; and clo- 
ses With a most seasonable, alarming, and spirited address to tke in* 
habiiants of Great Britain, Printed J7 46. 



184 CONTEMPLATIONS 

to the goal. He descends lower and lower, till his cha- 
riot-wheels seem to hover on the utmost verge of the sky. 
What is somewhat remarkable, the orb of light, upon the 
point of setting, grows considerably broader. The shad- 
ows of objects, just before they become blended in undis- 
tinguishable darkness, are exceedingly lengthened.* Like 
blessings, little prized, while possessed ; but highly es- 
teemed, the very instant they are preparing for their 
flight ; bitterly regretted, when once they are gone, and to 
be seen no more. 

The radiant globe is now half-immer^^d beneath the 
dusky earth ; or, as the ancient poets speak, is shooting 
into th^ ocean, and sinks in the western sea. — And could 
I view the sea at this juncture, it would yield a most amu- 
sing and curious spectacle. The rays, striking horizon- 
tally on the liquid element, give it the appearance of float- 
ing glass ; or reflected in many a difl'eient direction, form 
a beautiful multiplicity of colours. — A stranger, as he 
walks along the sandy beach, and, lost in pensive attention, 
listens to the murmurings of the restless flood, is agreea- 
bly alarmed by the gay decorations of the surface. With 
entertainment, and with wonder, he sees the curling waves, 
here glittering with white, there glowing with purple ; 
in one place, wearing an azure tincture ; in another, glanc- 
ing a cast of undulating green ; in the whole, exhibiting 
a piece of fluid scenery, that may vie with yonder pensile 
tapestries, though wrought in the loom, and tinged with 
the dies of heaven. 

While I am transported by fancy to the shores of the 
ocean, the great luminary is sunk beneath the horizon, and 
totally disappears. The whole face of the ground is over- 
spread with shades; or, with what one of the finest pain- 
ters of nature calls, a dun obscurity. Only a few very su- 
perior eminences are tipt with streaming silver. The 
tops of groves, and lofty towers, catch the last smiles of 
day ;* are still irradiated by the departing beams. — But, 
O ! how transient is the distinction ! how momentary the 

* Majoi-esquecadunt altis de montibus unr.brx.— — ^ — ^^t^'^- 

f See this remarkable appearance delicately described, and 
wrought into a comparison, which, in iny oj)iaion. is one of the 
most just, beautiful, and noble pieces of inaagety, to be found ijQ 
modern poetry. Night-Thoughts^ No, II. p. 42. 4to edit. 



OK THE NIGHT. 185 

gift! Like all the blessings, which mortals enjoy below, 
it is gone, almost as soon as granted. See ! now languish- 
ingly it tremoies on the leafy spire ; and glimmers, with 
a dying faintness, on the nrioantain's bro\V. Tne little vi- 
vacity that remains, decays every moment. It can no lon- 
ger hold its station. While 1 speak, it expires ; and re* 
signs the world to the gradual approaches ot night. 

— Now Twilight grey 
Has in her sober iiv'ry ail things clad.* 

Every object, a little while ago, glared with light; but 
now all appears under a more quaiified lustre. The ani- 
mals harmonize with the insensible creation ; and what 
was gay in those, as well as glittering in this, gives place 
to an universal gravity. In the meadows, all was jocund 
and sportive ; but now the gamesome lambs are grown 
weary of then- frolics, and the tired shepherd has imposed 
silence on his pipe. In the branches, all was sprightliness 
and song : but now the lively green is wrapt in the de- 
scending glooms ; and no tuneful airs are heard, only the 
plaintive stock-dove, cooing mournfully through the 
grove. — Should I now be vain and trifling, the heavens 
and the earth would rebuke my unseasonable levity* 
Therefore, be those moments devoted to thoughts sedate 
as the closing day, solemn as the face of things. And in- 
deed, however my social hours are enlivened with inno- 
cent pleasantry, let every evening, in her sable habit, toll 
the bell to serious consideiation. Nothing can be more 
proper, for a person who walks on the borders of eternity, 
and is hasting continually to his final audit ; nothing more 
proper, than daily to slip away from the circle of amuse- 
ments, and frequently to relinquish the hurry of business, 
in order to consider and adjust " the things that belong to 
his peace." 

Since the sun is departed, from whence can it proceed, 
that I am not involved in pitchy darkness ? Whence these 
remainders of diminished brightness ? which, though 
scarcely forming a refu-gence, soften and sooth the hor- 
rors of night. I see not the shining ruler, yet am cheer- 
ed with a real, though faint communicaiicMi of his splen- 
dour.-— Does he remember us, in his progress through 

«Milt Par. Lost, U IV. I 59a. 
Q2 



1 



186 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Other climes ? Does he send a detachment of his rays to 
escort us during his personal absence ; or to cover (if 1 
may use tne miiitaiy term) our retreat trcm the scene of 
action? Has he bequeathed us a dividend of his beams, 
sufficient to render our circumstances easy, and our situ- 
ation agreeable '! stiil sleep pours its soft oppression on 
the organs of sense ; till sleep suspends all the operations 
of our hands, and entirely supersedes any farther occasion 
for the light. 

No : It is ill-judged and unreasonable, to ascribe this 
beneficent conduct to the sun. Not unto hirn, not unto 
hiiu ; but unto his Almighty Maker, we are obliged, for 
Ihis pleasing attendant, this valuable legacy. The gra- 
cious author of our being has so disposed the collection 
of circumambient air, as to make it productive of this fine 
and wonderful effect. The sun-beams, falling on the high- 
er parts of the aerial fluid, instead of passing on in straight 
Hues, are bent inwards, and conducted to our sight. Their 
natural course is over-ruled, and they are bidden to wheel 
about, on purpose to favor us with a welcome and salutary 
visit — By which means, the blessing of light, and the seas- 
on of business, are considerably prolonged ; and what is a 
very endearing circumstance, prolonged most considera- 
bly, when the vehement heats of Summer incline the stu- 
dent to postpone his walk, till the temperate evening pre- 
vails ; when the important labors of the harvest call the 
husbandman abroad, before the day is fully risen. 

After all the ardours oLthe bultry day, how reviving is 
this coolness !-— This gives new verdure to the fading 
plants. Dew vivacity to the withering flowers, and a more 
exquisite fragrance to their mingied scents.^ — By this, the 
air also receives new force, and is qualified to exert it- 
self with greater activity ; qualified to brace our limbs ; 
to heave our lungs ; and co-operate, with a brisker im- 
pulse, in perpetuating the circulation of our blood. — This 
I might call the gi^andalembic of Nature ; which distils 
her most sovereign cordial, the refreshing dews. Inces- 
sant heat would rob us of their beneficial agency; ando- 
blige them to evaporate, in imperceptible exhalations. 
Turbulent winds, or even the gentler motions of Aurora's 
fan, would dissipate the rising vapors, and not sufl'er them 
to form a coalition. But, favored by the stillness, and con- 
densed by the coolness ©f the night, they unite in pearly 






ON THE NIGEY. 1ST 

drops, and create that finely-tempered humidity, 'which 
cheers the vegetable world, as sleep exhiierates the ani- 
mal. 

Not unlike to these are the advantages of solitude. The 
world is a troubled ocean ; and who can erect stable pur- 
poses on its fluctuating waves I Tiie world is a school of 
wrong ; and who does not leel himself warpir.g, to its per- 
nicious influences ?* On this sea of g -.ssjt how insCiisi- 
bly we slide from our own steadfastness ! Some sacred 
truth, which was struck in lively characters on our souls, is 
obscured, if not obliterated. Some worthy resolution, 
which heaven had wrought into our brtasts, is shaken, if 
not ovei thrown. Some enticing vanity, which we had sol- 
emnly renounced, again practices its wiles, and again cap- 
tivates our affections. How often has an unweary glance 
kindled a ferver of irregular desire in our hearts ? How 
often has a word of a])plause dropt luscious poison into 
our ears : or some disrespectful expression raised a gust 
of passion in our bosoms ? our iniiocence is of so tender a 
constitution that it suffers in the promiscuous croud. Our 
purity is of so delicate a complexion, that it scarce touches 
on the worldjwithout contracting a stain. We see, we hear, 
with peril. 

But here safety dwells. Every meddling and intrusive 
avocation is secluded. Silence holds the door against the 
strife of tongues, and all the imperiinencies of idle conver- 
sation. The busy swarm of vain images, and cajoling 
temptations : which beset us, with a buzzing importunity, 
amidst the gaieties of life ; are chased by these thickening 
shades. Here I may, without disturbance, commune with 
my own heart ; and learn that best of sciences, to know 
myself. Here the soul may rally her dissipated powers, 
and grace recover its native energy. This is the oppor- 
tunity, to rectify every evil impression ; to expel the poi- 
son, and guard against the contagion, of corrupting exam- 
ples. This is the place where I may, with advantage, ap- 
ply myself to subdue the rebel within ; not of a sceptre, 
but of myself. Throng then, ye ambitious, the levees of 

* Nunquam a turha mores, quos exruli, refero. Aliquid, ex eo 
quod comp )cui, iurb?jur : aliquid. ex his qu2s fugavi, redit. In-mu 
ca est multorum conversatio. Senec- 

t Rev, XV. 2. 



138 COXTEMPLATIONS 

the powerful ; I will be punctual in my assignations with 
soiitude. To a mind intent upon its own improvement, 
solitude has charms incomparably more engaging^ than 
the entertainments presented in tiie theatre, or the honours 
conferred in ttie drawing-room. 

i said, soiitude — Am 1 then alone ? 'Tis true, my ac- 
quaintance are at a distance. I have stole away from com- 
pany, and am re '.note from all human observation. — ^But 
that is an alarming tnought, 

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.* 

Perhaps there may be numbers of those invisible beings 
patrolling this same retreat ; and joining with mc, in con- 
templating the Creator's works. Perhaps those minister- 
ing spirijts, who rejoice at the conversion of a sinner, and 
hold up the goings of the righteous, may follow us to the 
lonely recess ; and, even in our most solitary moments^be 
our constant attendants. What a pleasing awe is awak- 
ened by such a reflection ! How venerable it renders my 
retired walks ! I am struck with reverence, as under the 
roof of some sacred edifice, or in the presence-chamber 
of some mighty monarch. O I may I never bring any pride 
of imagination, nor indulge the least dissolute affection, 
where such refined and exalted intelligences exercise their 
w^atch ! 

'Tis possible, that I am enconypassed with such a cloud 
of witnesses ; but it is certain, that God, the infinite eter- 
nal God, is now and ever with me. The great Jehovah, 
before whom all the angelic armies bow their heads, and 
veil their faces, surrounds me ; supports me ; pervades 
me. " In him 1 live, move, and have my being." — The 
whole world is his august temple ; and in the most se- 
questered corner, T appear before his adorable Majesty^ .. 
no less than when I worship in his house, or kneel at his 
altar. In every piace, therefore, let me pay him the hom- 
age of a heart, cleansed from idols, and devoted to his ser- 
vice. In every circumstance, let me feel no ambition but 
to please him, nor covet any happiness, but to enjoy him. 

How sublime is the description, and how striking the 
sentimer^tban that noble passage of the Psalms: " Whither 
shall 1 go from thy Spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy 

* Milt. Par. Lost. b. IV. 1. 677. 



ON THE KIGHT. 189 

presence? If I climb up into the heights of heaven, thou 
art there, enthroned in light* If 1 go down to the depths 
of the grave, thou art there also, in thy pavillion of dark- 
ness, if I retire to the remotest eastern climes, where the 
morning first takes wing : If, swifter than the darting ray, 
I pass to the opposite regions of the west, and lemain in 
the uttermost parts of the sea :"* Shall I, in that distant 
situation, be beyond thy reach; or, by this suddeii transi- 
tion, escape thy notice ? So far from it, that could I, Vvith 
one glance of thought, transport myself beyond all the 
bounds of creation, 1 should stiiibe encircled with the im- 
mensity of thy essence ; or rather, still be enclosed in the 
hollow of tiiy hand. — Awful, yet deligiiiful truth ! Let it 
be interwoven with every tnought! and become one with 
the very consciousness of my existence ! that I may con- 
tinually walk with God; and'conduct myselfjin every step 
of my behaviour, " as seeing him that is invisible."' 

They are the happy persons ; f.;licity, true felicity, is all 
their own ; who live under an habitual sense of Goa's om- 
nipresence, and a sweet persuasion of his special love. If 
dangers threaten, their impregnable defence is at hand. 
Nothing can be so near to terrify, as their Almighty Guar- 
dian to secure them. — To these the hours can never be 
tedious; and it is impossible for them to be alone. Do 
they step aside from the occupations of animal life ! A 
more exalted set of employments engage their attention. 
They address themselves, in all the vaiious acts of devo- 
tion, to their heavenly Father ; who now sees in secret, 
and will hereafter reward them openly. They spread all 
their wants before his indulgent eye, aiid disburden ail 
their sorrows ioto his compassionate bosom. Do they 
withdraw from human society ? They find themselves un- 
der the more immediate regards of their maker. If they 
resign the satisfactions of social intercourse, it is to culti- 
vate a correspondence with the condescending Dc-ity, and 
taste the pleasures of divine friendship. — What is such a 
state, but the very suburbs of heaven ? what is such a con- 
duct but an antepast of eternal blessedness ? 

^ Psalm cxxxix 7, 8, 9. There is, I think, an additional 
strength and beauiy in the thought, if, with the learned Mr. Mudge, 
wesupposean antithesis between the two clauses of rhe hisr verse, 
as there evidently is beuveen tho^e of the preceding : >^nd that they 
express, in a poetical style, the extremit es of the East and the 
West. 



190 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



Now, my soul, the day is ended. The hours are all 
fled They are fled to the supreme Judge, and have giv- 
en in their evidence ; an evidence registered in heaven ! 
^and to be produced at the great audit. — Happy ttiey whose 
improvement has kept pace with ihe fleeting minutes ; 
who have seized the important fugitives, and engaged 
them in the pursuit of wisdom, or devoted them to the 
service of virtue. 

Fugitives indeed they are. Our moments slip away 
silently and insensibly. The thief steals not more unper- 
ceived from the pillaged house. — -And will the ruoagates 
never stop '/ No : wherever we are, however employed, 
time pursues his incessant course. Though we are list- 
less and dilatory : the Great Measurer of our days press- 
es on ; still presses on, in his unwearied career ;* and 
Whirls our weeks, and months, and years away. — Is- it not 
then surprisingly strange, to hear peopie complain of the 
tediousness of their time, and how heavy it hangs upon 
their hands ; to see them contrive a variety of amnsing 
artifices, to accelerate its flight, and get rid of its burden? 
— Ah ! thoughtless mortals ! Why need you urge the 
headlong torrent ! Your days are swifter than a post ; 
which, carrying dispatches of the last importance, with *l 
unremitied speed scours the road. They pass away Tke 
the nimble ships; which have the wind in their wings, and 
skim along the v/atry plain. They hasten to their dest- 
ined period, with the rapidity of an eagle ; which leaves 
the stormy blase behind her, while she cleaves the air, and 
darts upon her prey.f 

Now the day is gone, how short it appears ! When 
my fond eye beheld it in perspective, it seemed a very 
considerable space. Minutes crouded upon minutes, and 
hours ranged behind hours, exhibited an extensive 

* Sedfugit, interea, fugit irrepambiletempus. 

t Jcb ix. 25, 26. By these three very expressive -mages, the in- 
spired poet represents the iinintermitted and rapd flight of time. 
The passage is illustrated wich great judgment, and equal delicacy, I 
in Dr, Grey's most ingenious abridgment of Schuhens.— Qj'ae tri-l 
bus in eiementis velocissima, hie admirabili cum emphasi congerun- [ 
tur. In rerrls, nil pernicius cursore, et quidem Ixti quid ferente. [ 
Rapidius tamen adhuc undas, non secant, sed Eupervolant, navigio- 
la papyro contexta. Omnium rapidissime aerem grandibiis alls I 
permetiiur aquila, prxcipiti lapsu ruens in prsedum. 



ON THE NIGHT. 191 

draught, and flattered me with a long progression of plea- 
sure. But, upon a retrospective view, hov/ wonderfully 
is tiiC scene altered ! The landscape, large and spacious, 
which a warm fancy drexy, brought to the test of cool ex- 
perience, skrinks into a span. Just as the shores vanish, 
and mountains dwindle to a spot, when the sailor, surroun- 
ded by skies and ocean, throws his last look on his native 
land. — How clearly do 1 now discover the cheat 1 May it 
never impose upon my unwary imagination again I I find 
there is nothing abiding on this side Eternity. A long du- 
ration, in a state of finite existence, is mere illusion. 

Perhaps, the healthy and the gay, may not readily cred- 
it the serious trutli ; especially from a young pen, and new 
to its employ. Let us then refer ourselves to the decision 
of the ancient. Ask some venerable old person, who is 
just marching off the mortal stage, " How many have 
been the days of the years of thy life ?"* It was a mon- 
arch's question, and therefore can want no recommeiida- 
tion to the fashionable world. — Observe how he shakes 
his hoary locks, and from a deep felt conviction replies ; 
'^ Fourscore years have finished their rounds, to furrow 
'' these cheeks, and clothe this head in snow. Such a 
" term may seem long and large to inconsiderate youth. 
^' Bui O ! how short, how scanty, to one that has made the 
*^ experiment ! Short, as a gleam of transient sunshine ; 
" scanty as the shadow that departeth. Methinks, it was 
*' but yesterday that I exchanged my childish sports, for 
" manly exercises ; and now I am resigning them both, 
*' for the sleep of death. As soon as we are born, we be- 
" gin to draw to our end : and how small is the interval 
" between the cradle and the tomb !" — O ! may we believe 
this testim.ony of mature Bge ! may every evening bring 
it, with clearer evidence, to our minds ! and may we form 
such an estimate of the little pittance, while it is upon 
the advancing hand, as we shall certainly make, when the 
sands are all run doivn ! 

Let me add ore reflection upon the wo^k to be done, 
while the shuttle is flying through the loom f A work 
of no small difficu-ty. yet of the utmost consequence! — 
Hast thou not seen, hast>ihou not known, the excellent of 

* Gen. xlvii. 8. Heb Eib. 
t My days are switter tliAii a weaver's shutde. Job, vii. 6. 



192 eONTEMPLATIONS 

the earth, who were living images of their Maker ? His 
divine likeness was transfused into their hearts, and bea- 
med forth in all their conduct ; beamed forth in meekness 
of wisdom, and purity of affection ; in all the tender offices 
of love, and all the n- ble efforts of zeal. To be stamped 
with the same beautiful signature, and to be followers of 
them, as they were of Christ : this, this is thy business. 
On the accomplishment of this, thy eternal all depends. 
And will an affair of such unspeakable weight admit of a 
moment's delay, or consist with the leaet remissness ? — 
especially, since much of thy appointed time is already e- 
lapsed ; and the remainder is all uncertainty, save only 
that it is in the very act to fly.— Or suppose, thou hadst 
made a covenant with the grave, and wast assured of rea- 
ching the age of Methusaleh ; how soon would even such 
a lease expire ? — Extend it, if you please, still farther, and 
let it be co-existent with Nature itself How inconsidera- 
ble is the addition ! For yet a very little while, and the com- 
missioned Archangel lifts up his hand to heaven, and 
swears by the Almighty Name, That time will be no lon- 
ger.* Then abused opportunities will never return; and 

* ThisalUidesto the beginning of Revelations the xth ; which, ab- 
stracted from its spiritual meaning, and considered onh. as a srately 
piece of machinery, well deserves our attention ; and, I will vent- 
ure to say, has not its ^iuperic* perhaps not its equal, in any of the 
most celebrated masters of Greece and Rome.— All that is gloomy 
or beautiful in the atmosphere, all that is striking or magnificent in 
every element, is taken to heighten the idea- Yet nothing is dispro, 
portionate ; but an uniform air of ineffable majesty greatens, exalts, 
enncb'es the whole. — Be pleased to observe the aspect of this august 
personage. All the brightness of the sun shines in his counte- 
nance; and all the rage of the fire burns in his feet. — See his appar- 
el. The clouds compose his robe, and the drapery of ^he sky floats 
upon his shoulders. The rainbow forms liis diadem ; and that 
which " coirjpasseth the heaven with a glorious circle," is the orn- 
ament of his head. — Behold his attitude. One foot stands on theo- 
cean the other rests on the land. The wide-extended earth, and 
the world of waters, serve as pedestals for those mighty columns, — 
Consider the action. His hand is lifted up to the height of the stars. 
He speaks, and the regions of the firmament echo with the mighty 
accents, as the midnight desert resounds with the lion's roar. The 
artillery of the skie^ is discharged at :he signal ; a peal of sevenfold 
thunder spreads the alarm, and prepares the universe to receive his 
orders. — To finish all and give the highest grandeur, as well as the 
utmost solemnity, to the representation, hear the decree that issues 
ttom his mouth- He swears by hii^.that liveth foi ever and ever. 



ON THE NIGHT. 19^3 

new opportunities will never mope he offered. Then, 
should negligent mortals wish — wish ever so passionately 
—for a few hours — a few moments only — to be thrown 
back from the opening Eternity, thousands of worlds would 
not be able to procure the grant. 

Shall I now be industrious to shorten what is no longer 
than a span, or to quicken the pace of what is ever on the 
wing ? Shall I squander away what is unutterably impor- 
.tant, while it lasts ; and when once departed, is altogeth- 
jCr irrevocable i O ! my soul, forbear the folly, forbear the 
desperate extravagance. Wilt thou chide as a loiterer, 
the arrow that boundeth from the string ; or sweep away 
diamonds, as the refuse of thy house ? — Throw time a- 
way. Astonishing, ruinous, irreparable profuseness 1— 
Throw empires away, and be blameless : But O be par- 
simonious of thy days ; husband thy precious hours. They 
go connected, indissolubly connected, with heaven or hell.* 
Improved, they are a sure pledge of everlasting glory; 
wasted, they are a sad preface to never-ending confusion 
and anguish. 

In whatever manner so majestic a person had expressed himself, 
he coulH not fail of commanding universal attention. But when 
he confirms his speech by a most sacred and inviolable oath, we are 
not only wrapt in silent suspense, but overwhelmed with the pro- 
foundest awe.— He swears, That time shall be no longer. Was 
ever voice so full of terror ; so big ivith wonder ? It proclaims, not 
the fall of empires, but the final period of things. It strikes off the . 
wheels of nature ; bids ages and generations cease to roll ; and, 
with one potent word, consignsa whole world over to dissolution.— 
This is one among a multitude of very sublime and masteily 
strokes, to be found in that too much neglected book — the Bible. 

* I remember to have seen, upon a sun-dial in a physician's gar* 

vden at Northampton, the following inscription i whrch, I think, is 

the most proper motto for the instrument that measures our time, 

and the most striking admonition that can possibly be presented to 

every eye- 

Ab hoc momento pendet eternitasi 

The vreighty sense of which, I know not how to express in En« 
glish more happily thanin those words of Dr. Watts, 

Good God ! on what a slender thread 

[Or, on what a mom.entof liinej 
Hang everlasting things ! 

R 



194 CONTEMPLATIONS 

What a profound silence has composed the world 1 So 
profound is the silence, that my very breath seems a noise ; 
the ticking of my watch is distinctly heard ; if I do but 
stir, it creates a disturbance — There is now none of ihat 
confused din from the tumultuous city ; no voice of jovial 
rustics from the neighboring meadow ; no chirping melo- 
dy from the shady thicket — Every lip is sealed. Not the 
least whisper invades the air ; nor the least motion rus- 
tles among the boughs. Echo herself sleeps unmolested. 
The expanded ear, though all attention, catches no sound, 
but the liquid lapse of a distant murmuring stream. 

All things arehush'd, as Nature's self lay dead. 

If in the midst of this deep and universal composure, 
ten thousand bellowing thunders should burst over my 
head, and rend the skies with their united volleys; how 
should 1 bear so unexpected a shock ? It would stun my 
senses, and confound my thoughts. I should shudder in 
every limb : perhaps sink to earth with terror. — Consider 
then, O mortals ! consider the much more prodigious and 
amazing call, which will, ere long, alarm your sleeping 
bones. When the tenants ot the tomb have slumbered, in 
the most undisturbed repose, for a multitude of ages ; what 
an inconceivable consternation must the shout of the Arch- 
angel, and the trump of God, occasion ! Will it not 
wound the ear of the ungodly ; and affrig;ht, even to dis- 
traction, the impenitent sinner ? The stupendous peal 
will sound through the vast of heaven ; will shake the 
foundations of nature ; and pierce even the deepest reces- 
ses of the grave. And how^ — O ! how will the prison- 
ers of divine justice be able to endure that tremendous 
summons to a far more tremendous tribunal ? — Do thou, 
my soul, listen to the still voice of the gospel. Attend, in 
this thy day, to the gracious invitations of thy Saviour. 
Then shall that great midnight cry lose its horror, and be 
music in thy ears. It shall be welcome to thy reviving 
clay, as the tidings of liberty to the dungeon-captive; as 
the year of jubilee to the harassed slave. This, this shall 
be its charming import ; ' Awake, "and sing, ye that dwell 
in dust.'* 

What a general cessation of affairs has this dusky hour 

♦ Isa. xxvi; 19. 



ON THE NIGHT. 195 

introduced ! A little while ago, all was hurry, hurry, ^.ife 
and activity exerted tnemselves in a thousand busy forms. 
Tlie city swarmed with passing and repassing multitudes. 
Aii the country was sweat and dust. The air floated in 
perpetual agitanon, by the flitting birds, and humming 
bees. Art sat prying with her piercing eyes ; while In- 
dustry plied her restless hands. — But see, how all this fer- 
vent and impetuous bustle is fled with the sittnig sun. The 
beasts are sunk to their grassy couch ; and the winged 
pc- pie are retired to their downy ijests. The hammer 
has'Ve^igtied its sounding task, and the file ceases to re- 
peat its flying touches. Shut is the well frequented shop, 
and its threshold no longer worn by the feet of numerous 
customers. The village-swain lies drowned in slumbers ; 
and even his trusty dog, who for a considerable time, 
stood sentry at the door, is extended at his ease, and snores 
with his master. — in every place Toil reclines her head, 
and Application foids~~fier arms All interests seem to be 
forgot ; all pursuits are suspended ; all employment is 
sunk away, sunk away with those fluttering myriads, 
which lately sported in the sun's departing rays. — *Tis 
like the Sabbath of universal Nature f or as though the 
pulse of life stood still. 

Thus will it be with our infinitely momentous concerns, 
when once the shadows of the evening (that long evening 
which follows the footsteps of death !) are stretched over 
\is. The dead cannot seek unto God ; the living, the liv- 
ing alone, are possessed of this inestimable opportunity.* 
" There is no work or device, no repentance or amend- 
" ment in the grave,! whither we are all hasting." When 

* Behold! now is the accepted time. Behold! now is the (Jay 
of salvation. 2 Cor. vi. 2* 

Haste, haste, he lies in wait, he's at the door. 
Insidious death ! should his strong hand arrest. 
No composition sets the Prisoner free. 

t They who are gone down to the grave, are represented (Isa. 
xxxviii. 11.) by the phrase, Those that inhabit the land of inter- 
mission or cessation — Which prevents all appearance of tautology 
in the sentence; and is, I think, a valuable improvement of the 
translation ; as it conveys an idea, not only distinct from the prece- 
ding, but of a very poetical and very afflicting nature ; such as was 
perfectly natural for the royal singer, and royal sufferer to dwell up. 
on, in his dtsponding moments. — Thus interpreted, the sense will 



196 CONTEMPLATIONS 

once that closing scene is adranced, we shall have no oth- 
er part to act on this earthly theatre. Then the sluggard, 
who has slumbered away life in a criminal inactivity, must 
lie down in hopeless distress, and everlasting sorrow. 
Then that awful doom will take place, '' He that is holy? 
let him be holy still ; and he^that is filthy, let him be filthy 
for ever.'' 

Is it so, my soul ? is this the only, only time allotted for 
obtaining the great reward, and making thy salvation sure ? 
And art thou lulled in a vain security, or dreaming in a 
supine inadvertency ? Start, O ! start from thy trance. 
Gird up the loins of thy mind, and work while it is day. — 
Improve the present seed-time, that eternity may yield a 
joyful harvest. — We especially, who are watchmen in Is- 
rael, and ministers of the glorious gospel; may be awa- 
kened, by this consideration, to all assiduity in our holy of- 
fice. Some or other of our people are ever and anon de- 
parting into the invisible state ; all our friends are making 
incessant approaches to their long home; and we our- 
selves shall very shortly be transmitted to the confine- 
ment of the tomb. This is the favorable juncture, where- 
in alone we can contribute to their endless welfare. This 
is the crisis, the all-important crisis, of their final felicity. 
Instantly, therefore, let us pour in our wholesome instruc- 
tions ; instantly let us ply them with our earnest exhorta- 
tions. A moment's delay may be an irreparable loss ; 
may be irretrievable ruin. While we procrastinate, a 
fatal stroke may intervene, and place us beyond the power 
of administering, or place them beyond all possibility of 
receiving any spiritual good.* 

How frequently is the face of Nature changed ! and, by 
changing, made more agreeable ! — The long continued 

run : '* I shall see man ho more ; I shall be cut off from the cheerful 
ways of men and all the sweets of human society. And what is a 
farther aggravation of the threatened stroke. I shull, by its taking 
place, be numbered with those that inherit the land of cessation and 
inactivity ; where theie will be no more possibility of contributing 
to the happiness of mv kingdom, no more opportunity of advancing 
my Creator's glory, or of making my own final salvation sure.'*— p-A 
sennment like this is grand, important, and full oF benevolence ; re- 
moves all suspicion of unbecoming pusillanimity, and does the high, 
est honor to the monarch's character. 

* The case represented by the prophet (1 Kings xK. 40,) seems 
perfectly applicable on this oceasion. As thy servant was busy 



ON THE NIGHT. 197 

glitter of the day, renders the soothing shades of the eve- 
ning doubly welcome. Nor does the morn ever purple 
the east with so engaging a lustre, as after the gloom of a 
dark and dismal night — At present, a calm of ti anquillity 
is spread through the universe. The weary winds have 
forgot to blow. The gentle gales have fanned themselves 
asleep. Not so much as a single leaf nods. Even the 
quivering aspin rests. And not one breath curls o'er the 
stream. — Sometimes, on the contrary, the tempest sum- 
mons all the forces of the air, and pours itself, with resist- 
less fury, from the angry North. The whole atmosphere 
is tossed into tumultuous confusion, and the watry world 
is heaved to the clouds. The astonished mariner, and his 
straining vessel, now scale the rolling mountain, and hang 
dreadfully visible on the rolling surge ; now shoot, with 
headlong impetuosity, into the yawning gulf ; and neither 
hulk nor mast is seen. -The storm sweeps over the con- 
tinent; raves along the city streets, struggles through the 
forest boughs, and terrifies the savage nations with a 
howl, more wildly horrid than their own. The knotty 
oaks bend before the blast ; their iron trunks groan ; and 
their stubborn limbs are dashed to the ground. The 
lofty dome rocks ; and even the sglid tower totters on its 
basis. 

Such variations are kindly contrived, and with an evi- 
dent condescension to the fickleness of our taste. Because 
a perpetual repetition of the same objects would create 
satiety and disgust, therefore the indulgent Father of our 
race has diversified the universal scene, and bid every ap- 
pearance bring with it the charm of novelty. — This cir- 
cumstance is beneficial, as well as entertaining. Provi- 
dence, ever gracious to mortals, ever intent upon promo- 
ting our felicity, has taken care to mingle, in the constitu- 
tion of things, what is pleasing to our imagination, with 
what is serviceable to our interests. The piercing winds, 
and rugged aspect of Winter, render the balmy gales, and 
flowery scenes of Spring, peculiarly delightful. At the 
same time, the keen frosts mellow the soil, and prepare 

here and there, he was gone. So, while we are either remiss in our 
func^ion, or laying ourselves out upon inferior cares, the people of 
our charge may be gone ; — gone beyond the influence of our coun- 
sels- beyond the reach of our prayers ; — gone into the unch^nigea' 
ble and eternal state. 

R 2 



198 GONTEMPLATIOXS 

it for the hand of Industry. The rushing rains impregnate 

the glebe, and fit it to become a magazine of plenty. The 
earth is a great laboratory ; and December's cold collects 
the gross materials, which are sublimated by the rtfi.ung 
warmth of May. The air is a pure elastic fluid ; and were 
it always to remain in this motionless serenity, it would 
lose much of its active spring ; was it never agitated by 
those wholesome concussions, it would contract a noisome, 
perhaps a pestilential taint. In which cases, our respira- 
tion, instead of purifying, would corrupt the vital juices ; 
instead of supplying us with refreshment, would be a 
source of diseases ; on every gasp we draw, might be un- 
avoidable death.*-- -How then should we admire, how 
should we adore, that happy union of benignity and wis- 
dom ; which from a variety of dispensations, produces an 
uniformity of good ? Produces a perpetual succession of 
delights, and an uninterrupted series of advantages I 

The darkness is now at its height ; and I cannot but 
admire the obliging manner of its taking place. It comes 
not with a blunt and abrupt incivility, but makes gentle 
and respectful advances. A precipitate transition, from 
the splendors of day. to all the horrors of midnight, would 
be inconvenient and frightful. It would bewilder the trav- 
eller in his journey ; it would strike the creation with a- 
mazement ; and. perhaps, be pernicious to the organs of 
sight. Therefore the gloom rushes not upon us instanta- 
neously, but increases by slow degrees ; and, sending twi- 
light before as its harbinger, decently advertises us of its 

* Considering the nnmense q'jantity of c^i's, and o:her ccmbus* 
tible material-, svhich are d:^.ily consumed, and evaporate into the air ; 
considering .he nun::bcrl==5 steams and clcudb of smcke, svh-ch al- 
iTiOsr continually over^vhe':m pop'ulc^us cii'es ; the noisone exhala- 
tions, which ari:e fiom thonged irinrmares and loa:h'ome jails, 
ircm stagnating lakes and puTid fens ; — 'he var-e'v of cffensive and 
unwhole-eme efEuvia, which proceed from oiher causes ; it is a very 
Yemarkable instance of a Providence, at once tenderly kind and in- 
finitely powerfal, that mankind is not suffxated with blench, that 
the air is not choaked with filth — The a;r is the common sewer in- 
to which ten thousand times ten thousand nuisances are incei^santly 
discharged; yet h is preiC'-ved so thoroughly clear, as to afford the 
► most transparent medium for vision ; so delicately undulator\ , as to 
transmit, with all imaginable disnnctne-s every d versity of sound; 
soperfec'Iy pure as to be ihe constant refiner of the fluids, in ever^ 
iiuinisi) th^t breathes. 



ON THE NIGHT. ' 199 

approach. By this means, we are neither alarmed, nor in- 
commoded by the change ; but are able to take all suita- 
ble and timely measures, for its reception. — Thus gra- 
ciously has Providence regulated, not only the gianci vi- 
cissitudes of the seasons, but also the common ititerchai.- 
ges of light and darkness, with an apparent reference to 
our comfort. 

Now the fierce inhabitants of the forest forsake their 
dens. A thousand grim forms, a thousand growling mon- 
sters, pace the desert. Death is in their jaws, while stung 
with hunger, and a thirst for blood, they roam their night- 
ly rounds. — Unfortunate the traveller who is overtaken by 
the night, in these dismal wilds ! How must we stand a- 
ghast, at the mingled yell of ravenous throats, and lions 
roaring after their prey ! Defend him, propitious Heaven ! 
or else he must see his endearing spouse, and hail his na- 
tive homCj no more ! — Now the prowling wolf, hke a mur- 
derous ruffian, dogs the shepherd's footsteps, and besets 
his bleating charge. The fox, like a crafty felon, steals to 
the thatched cottage, and carries off the feathered booty. 

Happy for the world, were these the only destroyers 
that walk in darkness. But, alas ! there are savages in hu- 
man shape, who, mifffled in shades infest the abodes of 
civilized life. The sons of violence make chojceofthis 
season,* to perpetrate the most outrageous acts of wrong 
and robbery. The adulterer waiteth for the twilight ; 
and, baser than the villain on the hig;hway. betrays the hon- 
or of his bosom friend. Now Faction forms her close ca- 
bals, and whispers her traitorous insinuations. Now Re- 
bellion plans her accursed plots, and prepares the train to 
blow a nation into ruin. Now crimes, wiuch hide their o- 
dious heads in the day, haunt the seats of society, and stalk 
through the gloom Vvith audacious front. Now the vermin 
of the stews crawi frc^n their lurking- holes, to wallow iii 
sin, and spread contagion throueh the nigh^; each sooth- 
ing himself with the fond notion, that ail is safe ; that no 
eye sees. 

Are they then concealed? Preposterous madmen ! to 
draw the curtain between their infamous practices, and a 

*— When Night 
Daikens the btrcets. then wander fovth the sons 
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.— jkTi/tor.. 



SOQ gONTEMPLATIOKS 

little set of mortals ; but lay them open to all these chaste 
and wakeful eyes of Heaven ?* as though the moon and 
( stars were made, to light men to their revels, and not to 

God.— Are they then concealed ? No, truly. Was every 
one of these vigilant luminaries closed , an eye keener than 
the lightning's flash, an eye brighter than ten thousand 
suns, beholds their every motion. Then' thickest shades 
are beaming day,t to the Jealous Inspector, and Supreme 
Judge of human actions.-— Deluded creatures ! have ye 
not heard, have ye not rc;.d, "that clouds and darkness are 
his majestic residence ?"^: In that very gloom, to which 
you fly for covert, he erects his throne. What you reck** 
on your screen, is the bar of bis tribunal. O ! remember 
this ! Stand in awe, and sin not. Remember the great 
and terrible God is about your path, when you take your 
midnight-range ; is about your bed, when you indulge 
the loose desire ; and spies out all your ways, be they ev- 
er so secretly conducted, or artfully disguised. 

Some minutes ago, a passenger crossed along the road. 
His horse's foot struck the ground and fetched fire from a 
flint. My eyes, though at a distance, catched the view ; 
and saw, with great clearness, the transient sparkles : of 
which, had I been ever so near, I should not have discern- 
ed the least glimpse under the blaze of day. — So,!! when 

*— ^Sed luna videt, sed sideia testes 
Intendunt oculos. 

t This is finely and very torcTb]>% expressed by the Psalmist: If I 
say, Peradventure the d'arkness shall cover me ; then shall my night 
be turned to day ; ox, as it rray be rer.dered somewhat niore em- 
phar'ically, Even the night shall be broad daylight all around me. 
Psal. cxxxix. 10- 

\ Psal. xcvii 2. 

II I beg leave to inform the young gentleman, whose name digni- 
lies ray dedication, that this was a remark of his honored Father, 
when we rode tf:gether, and conversed in a dusky evening 1 men- 
tion this circumstance, partly to secure the paragraph fromcontempt 
.-.partly to give him and the world an idea of that enunently serious 
taste, which distinguished my deceased friend. -The less obvious the 
reflection, the more clearly it discovers a turn of mmd remarkably 
spiritual; wh'ch would suffer nothing to escape, without yieWing 
some religious improvement The meaner the incident, the more 
admirable was that fer^li^v of imagination, which coald deduce the 
sublimest truths from the most trivial occurrences. 



ON THE NIGHT. 



201 



sickness has drawn a veil over the gaiety of our hearts ; 
when misfortunes have eclipsed the splendor of our out- 
ward circumstances; ho\V many important convictions 
present themselves with the brightest evidence ! Under 
the sun-shine of prosperity^ they lay undiscovered ; but 
when some intervening cloud has darkened the scene, they 
emerge from their obscurity, and even glitter upon our 
minds. — Then, the world, that delusive cheat, confesses 
her emptiness ; but Jesus, the bright and Morning star, 
beams forth with inimitable lustre. Then vice loses all 
her fallacious allurements; that painted^strumpet is horri- 
ble, as the hags of hell ; but virtue, despised virtue, gains 
loveliness from a louring Providence, and treads the shades 
with more than mortal charms. — May this reconcile me, 
and all the sons of sorrov/, to our appointed share ol suffer- 
ing ! If tribulation tend to dissipate the inward darkness, 
and pour heavenly day upon our minds ; welcome distress ; 
welcome disappointment ; welcome whatever our fro ward 
flesh, or peevish passions, would miscall calamities. These 
light afflictions, which are but for a moment, shall sit ea- 
sy upon our spirits ; since they befriend our knowledge ; 
promote our faith; and so '' work out for us a far more 
exceeding and eternal weight of glory."* 

How has this darkness snatched every splendid and 
graceful object from my sight ! It has dashed the sponge 
over the pictures of Spring, and destroyed all the delicate 
distinctions of things. Where are now the fine tinges, 
•which so lately charmed me from the glowing parterre ? 
The blush is struck out from the cheeks of the rose, and 
the snowy hue is dropt from the lily. I cast my eyes tow- 
ard a magnificent seat ; but the aspiring columns, and fair 
expanded front, are minified in rude confusion. Without 
the sun, all the elegance of the blooming world is a mere 
blank; all their symmetry of architecture, is a shapeless 
heap. , 

Is not this an expressive emblem of the loveliness, 
\vhich the sun of righteousness transfuses into all that is 
amiable ? Was it not for Jesus, and his merits, I should 
sigh with anguish of spirit ; even while I rove through 
ranks of the most beautiful flowers, or breathe amidst a 
wilderness of sweets. Was it not for Jesus, and his mer- 



*2 Cor. iv. 17. 



202 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



its, I should roam like some disconsolate spectre, even 
through the smiles of creation, and the caresses of fortune. 
My conversation in this world, though dressed in the most 
engaging forms of exteniai pleasure, would be like the 
passage oi a coiidemned malefactor, through enamelled 
pieadows, and bowers of bli^s, to be broke upon the whee*.^ 
or to expire on the rack. But a daily refit ction on the 
Lamb's atoning blood, a comfortable trust* that my soul 
is reconciled through this divine expiation ; this is the ray, 
the golden ray, which irradiates the face of the universe. 
This is the oil of beauty, which makes ail things wear a 
cheerful aspect; aud the oil of gladness, which disposes 
the spectator to behold them wUh delight.* This, this is 
the secret charm, which teaches Nature, in ail her pros- 
pects, and all her productions, so exquisitely to please. 

'^ Man goeth forth to his work, and to his labor, Vl\ the 
evening." But then his strength fails ; his spirits fl-ig ; 
and he stands in need, not only of some respite from toil, 
but of some kindly and sovereign refreshments- — What 
an admirable provision for this purpose is sleep I Sleep 
introduces a most welcome vacation, both for the soul and 
body. The exercises of the brain, and the labors of the 
hands, are at once discontinued. So that the v/eary limbs 
rep'iir their exhausted vigor; while the pensive thoughts 
drop their load of sorrows, and the busy ones rest from the 
fatigue of application-— Most reviving* cordial: equally 
bentficial to our animal and intellectual powers. It 
supplies the fleshly machine, and keeps all its nice 

* 1 bus applied, that fine piece of flattery addressed to :the Hea- 
then Emperor^ is sinctly and literally trae. 

Vultus iibi tuus 

Affulsit populo, gratior it dies, 

Et soles melius nitent Hontt. 

Which I would cast in a Christian nnould, and thu| translate: 

When Faith presents the Savior's death, 

And vvhi'^pers * This is thine;" 
Sweetly my rising hours advance, 

And peacefully decline. 

"While such my views, the radiant sun 

Sheds a more sprightly ray ; 
Each object smiles : all Nature charms ; 

1 sing my cares away. 



ON THE KIGHT. 203 

movements in a proper posture for easy play. It animates 
the thinking faculties with fresh alacrity, and rekindles 
their ardor for the studies of the dawn. Without these 
enlivening recruits, how soon would the most robust con- 
stitution be wasted iiito a walking skeleton ; and the most 
learned sage degenerate into a hoary idiot ! Some time 
ago, I beheld with surprise poor Florio. His air was 
wild; his countenance meagre ; his thoughts roving, and 
speech disconcerted. Inquiring the cause of this strange 
alteration, I w^as informed, that for several nights, he had 
not closed his eyes in sleep. For want of which noble re- 
storative, that sprightly youth (who was once the life of the 
discourse, and the darling of the company) is become a 
spectacle of misery and horror. 

How many of my fellow-creatures are, at this very in- 
stant, confined to the bed of languishing; and complain- 
ing with that illustrious sufferer of old, Wearisome 
nights are appointed to me !* instead of indulging soft 
repose they are counting the tedious hours ; telling every 
striking clock ; or measuring the very moments, by their 
throbbing pulse. How many, harassed with pain, most 
passionately long to make some little truce with their ag- 
onies, in peaceful slumbers ! How many, sick with dis- 
quietude, and restless even on their downy pillows, would 
purchase this transient oblivion of their woes almost at a- 
ny rate ! — That which wealth cannot procure, which mul- 
titudes sigh for in vain, thy God has bestowed on thee, 
times out of number. The welcome visitant, punctual at 
the needed hour, has entered thy chamber, and poured his 
poppies round thy couch ; has gently closed thy eye-lids 
and shed his slumberous dews over all thy senses* 

Since sleep is so absolutely necessary, so inestimably 
valuable, observe, what a fine appar3tus Almighty Good- 
ness has made, to accommodate us with a balmy blessing. 
With how kind a precaution he removes whatever might 
obstruct its access or impede its influence I He draws a- 
round us the curtain of darkaess ; which inclines us to a 
drowsy indolence, and conceals every object that might 
too strongly agke^te the sense. He conveys peap e into 
our apartmento; and imposes silence o > the whole crea- 
tion. Every animal is bidden to tread softly, or rather 

*Jobvii. 3. 



204 CONTEMPLATIONS 

to cease from its motion, when man is retiring to his re- 
pose.— May we not discern, in this gracious disposition 
of things, the tender cares of a nursing mother ; who 
Jiushes every noise^ and secludes every disturbance, when 
she has laid the child of her love to rest ? So, by such 
soothing circumstances, and gently working opiates, he 
giveth to his beloved, sleep.* 

Another signal instance of a Providence intent upon our 
welfare, is, that we are preserved safe in the hours of slum- 
ber. How are we then lost to all apprehension of danger, 
even though the murderer be at our bed- side, or his na- 
ked sword at our breast ! Destitute of all concern for our- 
selves, we are enable to think of, much more to provide 
for, our own security. At these moments, therefore, we 
lie open to innumerable perils ; perils from the resistless 
rage of fiames ; perils from the insidious artifices of 
thieves, or the outrageous violence of robbers ; perils from 
the irregular workings t of our own thoughts, and espe- 
cially from the incursions of our spiritual enemy. 

* Psalm cxxvii. 2. 

t I think, it is referable only to a superintending and watchful pro. 
vidence, that we are not hurried into the most perriicious actions, 
when our .imagination is heated, and our reason stupified by dreams. 
We have somtimes heard of unfortunate persons, who, walking in 
their sleep, have thrown themselves headlong from a window, and 
been dashed to death on the pebbles. And whence is it that such 
disastrous accidents are only related as pieces of news, not experi- 
enced by ourselves, or our iamilies ? Were our minds more sober in 
their operations, or more circumspect in their regards ? No, verily ; 
nothing could be more wild than their excursions ; and none could 
be more inattentive to their own 'welfare. Therefore, if we have 
laid us down, and slept in peace ; it was, because the Lord vouch- 
safed us the sweet refreshment ; If we rose again in safety, it was, 
because the Lord sustained us with his unremitted protection^ 

Will the candid reader excuse me, if I add a short story , or rather 
a matter of fact, suitable to the preceding remark? — I'^o persons 
who had been hunting together in the day, slept together the follow- 
ing night* One of them was renewing the pursuit in his dream i 
and, having run the whole circle of the chace, came, at last, to fhe 
fall of the Slag. Upon this, he cries out with a determined ardor, 
ni kill him, I'll kill him ; and immediately feel^ for the knife, 
which he carried in his pocket. His com.pdnion happening to be 
awake, and obseiving what pas-sed, leaped from the bed. Being 
secure from danger, and the moon shiniing blight into the room, he 



ON THE NIGHT. 205 

AVhat dreadful mischief might that restless, that impla- 
cable adversary of mankind work, was there not an invisi- 
ble hand to controul his rage, and protect poor movtais I 
What scenes of horror might b6 represci ted to our ima- 
ginations, and " scare us with dreams, or terrify us with 
visions!'** But, the keeper of Israel, wlio never slumbers 
nor sleeps, interposes in our behalf ; at once to cheris = us 
under his wings, and to defend us as with a shield. — it is 
said of Solomon, " that threescore valiant men were about 
his bed ; all expert in war ; every one with his sword up- 
on his thigh, because of fear in the night.*'t But one great- 
er than Solomon, one mightier than myriads of anned 
hosts ; even the great Jehovah, in whom is everlasting 
strength, he vouchsafes to encamp about our houses, to 
watch over our sleeping minutes, and to stop ail the ave- 
nues of ill. — O! the unwearied and condescending good- 
ness of our Creator! who lulls us to our rest, by bringing 
on the silent shades ; and plants his own ever-watchful 
eye as our sentinel, while we enjoy the needful repose. 

Reason now resigns her sedate office ; and f: ncy, ex- 
travagant fancy, leads the mind through a maze of vanity. 
The head is crouded with false images, and tantalized 
%vith the most ridiculous misapprehensions of things — 
Some are expatiating amidst fairy fields, and gathering 
garlands of visionary bliss ; while their bodies are stretch- 
ed on a wisp of straw, and sheltered by the cobwebs of a 
barn. Others quite insensible ol their rooms of tvP-te are 
mourning in a doleful dungeon, or struggling wit-^ the ra- 
ging billows. Perhaps, with hasty steps, they ciimb the 

stood to view the event. When, to his inexpressible surp*"ise, the 
^infatuated sportsman gave several dead!) s^abb in the very place, 
where, a monieni: before, the throat aud the Ife of hU friend U-- — 
ThiS'I mention, as a proof that nothing hhid^-rs us. ever irotr being 
assassins of others or murderers of ouf^eive^, arvvJ-it »hi mad .^itihes 
of sleep; only the preventing care of our heavenly Father, 

* What a complete master that malignant spirit is, in exh^b'^-ng 
visionary re^ieoentations, appears from his conduct tow ad Chri 
on the high mountain. Ard that he is too ready, if m resrrai- 
by an overruling power, to employ his dexieruy i"' affliciiar 
kind, is evident from his treatment of Job. See Luke iv 
vii. 14. 

t Cant.iii. T. 8. 
S 



Me 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



craggy cliff; and, ^vith real anxiety fly from the imaginary 
danger. Or else, benumbed wich sudden fear, and fii.ding 
themselves unable to escape, they gave up at once their 
hopes and their efforts ; and, though reclined on a couch 
of ivory, are siuking, all helpless and distressed, m the fu- 
rious v/hirlpool. So unaccountable are the vagaries of 
the brain, while sleep maintahis its dominion over the 
iimbs ! 

But is this the only season, when absurd and incoherent 
irregularities play their magic on our minds ? Are there 
not those who dream, even in their waking moments! — 
Some pride themselves in a notion of superior excellency, 
because the royal favour has annexed a few splendid titles 
to their names ; or because the dying silk-worm has be- 
queathed her finest threads, to cover their nakedness. — 
Others congratulate their own signal happiness, because 
loads of golden lumber are amassed together in their cof- 
fers ; or promise themselves a most superlative felicity in- 
deed, when some thousands more are added to the useless 
heap. — Nor are there wanting others, who gspe after sub- 
stantial satisfaction from* airy applause; and flatter them- 
selves with, i know not what, immortality in the mcm.en- 
tary buz of renown. — x\re any of these a w-hit more reason- 
able in then^ opinions, than the poor ragged wretch in his 
reveries, who, wiiile snoring under a hedge, exults in the 
possession of his stately palace and sumptucas furniture : 
If persons, who are very vassals to their own domineering 
passions, and led captive by numberless temptations; if 
these persons pique themselves with a conceit of their li- 
berty, and fancy themselves the generous and gallant spi- 
rits of the age : Where is the difl'erence between theirs, 
and the madman's frenzy; who, though chaiijed to the 
floor, is throned in thought, and w'ielding an im^aginary 
sceptre ?• — In a word, as many as borrow their dignity- 
from a plume of feathers, or the gaudy trappings of foi 
tune ; as many as send their souls to seek for bliss in the 
bl?.ndishments of sense, or in any thing short of the divine 
favour, and a well-grounded hope of the incorruptible in- 
heritance ;* what are they but dreamers with their eyes 
open ; delirious, though in health ? 

* Thpse gave a sacred and home-felt delight, 
A sober certainty of waking bliss. 

Milt, Comtis. 



ON THE NIGHT. 207 

Would you see their picture drawn to the very life, and 
the success of tiieir schemes calculated with the utmost 
exactness, cast your eye upon that fine representation ex- 
hibited by the prophet. " It shall be even as when a hun- 
gry man dreameth, and behold he eateth ; but he awaketh, 
and his soul is empty : Or, as when a thirsty man dream- 
eth, and behold, he diinketh ; but he awaketh, and behold, 
he is faint, and his soul hath appetite."* Such is the race, 
and such the prize, of all those candidates for honour and 
joy, who run wide from the mark of the high calling of 
God, in Christ Jesus. They live in vanity, and die in woe. 
Awaken us, mercit^ai Lord, from these noon-tide trances ! 
Awaken us, while conviction may turn to our advantage, 
and not serve only to increase our torment. O ! let our 
" eyes be enlightened, to discern the tilings that are ex- 
cellent;" and no longer be imposed upon by fantastic ap- 
pearances, which, however pompous they may seem, will 
prove more empty than the visions of the night, more tran- 
sie!;t than the dream that is forgotten. 

Having mentioned ^ ep and dreams, let me once 
again consider those remarkable incidents of our frame ; 
so very remai'kable, that I may venture to call them 
a kind of expermiental mystery, and little less than 
a standing miracle. — Behold the most vigorous con- 
stitution, when stretched on the bed of ease, and totally re- 
signed to the siumbei's of the night. Its activity is oppres- 
sed with fetters of indolence; its strength Is consigned over 
to a temporary annihilation ; the nerves ai^e like a bow 
unstrung, and the whole animal system is like a motion- 
less log. B -hold a person of the most delicate sensations, 
and amiable dispositions. His eyes, tliough thrown wide 
open, admit not the visual ray ; *at least, distinguish not 
objects. His e>irs, with the organs unimpaired, and arti- 
culate accents beating upon the drum, perceive not the 
sound ; at least, apprehend not the meaning. The senses, 
and their exquisitely- fine feelings* are overwhelmed with 
an unaccountable stupefaction. You i all him a social crea- 
ture ; but where are his social affections ? He knows not 
the father that begat him, and takes no notice of the friend 
that is as his own soul. The v/ife of his bosom may ex- 
pire by his side, and he lie more unconcerned than a bar- 

* Isa. xxix. §. 



208 CONTEMPLATIONS 

barian. The children of his body may be tortured with 
the severest pangs ; and he, even in the same channber, re- 
main untouched with the least commiseration. Behold 
the most ingenious scholar ; whose judgment is piercing, 
and able to trace the mnst intricate difficuities of science ; 
his taste refined, and quick to relish all the beauties of 
sentiment and composition. Yet, at this juncture, the 
thinking faculties are unhinged, and the intellectual oecon- 
oniy quite disconcerted. Instead of Ciose connected rea- 
sonings, nothing but a disjoh^ted huddle of absurd ideas ; 
instead of well digested principles, nothing but a disorder- 
ly jundjle of crude conceptions. The most palpable de- 
lusions impose upon his iniagination. The whole night 
passes, and he frequently mistakes it for a single minute; 
is not sensible of the transitiin, hardly sensible of any du- 
ration. 

Yet, no sooner does tlie morning davv'n, and day- light 
enter the room, but this strange enchantment vanishes. — 
The mar> awakes, and fir;ds hirasclt possessed of all the 
valuable endowments, which, for several hours, were sus- 
pended, or lost. His sinews are braced, and fit for action. 
His senses are alert and keen. The romantic visionary 
brightens into the master of reason. Tlie frozen or be- 
nun^bed cife'tions melt with tenderness? and glow with be- 
nevolence. And what is beyond measure surprising, the 
intoxicated mind works itself sober, r.^A by slow degrees; 
but, in the twmkiiiig of an eye, recovers from its perturba- 
tion. Why does not the stupor, -w hicb deaclens all the 
ni- e operations of the animal powers, hold fast its posses- 
sion 1 When the thoughts are once dlsadjusted, why are 
they not always in confusion ? How is it, that they are ral- 
lied in a miOment ; and, from the wildest irregularity, re- 
duced to the most orderly arrpy ; From an inactivity re- 
sem^blins: death, how is the .body so suddrnly restored to 
vigour and sgility ? From extravagances, bordering upon 
madness ; how is the understanding instantaneously re-es- 
tablished, in sedateness and harmony ? Surely '• this is the 
L >rd's doings, and it should be rnarvellor.s in our eyes;" 
should awaken our gratitude, and inspirit our praise. 

This is the time in which ghosts are supposed to make 
their appearance. Now the timorous imagination teems 
with phantoms, and creates numberless terrors to itself— 



ON THE NIGHT. 209 

Now dreary forms, in sullen state, stalk along the gloom ; 
or, t^wiiier than lightning, glide across the shades. Now 
voices more than mortal * are heard from the echoing 
vaults, and groans issue frorii the hollow tombs. Now 
melancholy spectres visit the ruins of ancient monasteries, 
and frequent the solitaiy dwellings of the dead. They 
pass and repass, in unsubstantial images, along the forsa- 
ken galleries ; or take their determined stand over some 
lamented grave. How often has the school-boy fetched a 
long circuit, and trudged many a needless step, in order 
to avoid the haunted church-yard ? Of, if necessity, sad 
necessity, has obliged him to cross the spot, where human 
sculls are lodged below, and the baleful yews shed super- 
numeraiy horrors above I a thousand hideous stories rush 
into his memory. — Fear adds, wings to his feet ; he scarce 
touches the ground ; dares not once look behind him ; and 
blesses his good fortune, if no frightful sound purred at his 
heels, if no ghastly shape bolted upon his sight. 

It is strange, to observe the excessive timidity which 
possesses many people's minds, on this fanciful occasion; 
v/iiJe they are void of all concern, on others of the most 
tremendous import. Those who are startled, in any dark 
and lonely walk, at the very apprehension of a single spec- 
tre, are nevertlicless unimpressed at the sure prospect of 
entering into a whole world of disembodied beings; nay, 
are without any emotions of awe, though they knv>w them-^ 
selves to be hastening into the presence of the great, infi- 
nite, and eternal Spirit. Should som.e pale messenger 
from the regions of the dead, draw back our curtains' at 
the hour of midnight; and appointing some particular 
place, say, as the horrid appai'ltion to Brutus, I'll meet 
thee there,! I believe the boldest hea^n would feel some- 
thing like a panic ; would seriously think upon the adven- 
ture, and be hi pain for the event. But, when a voice from 

» Vox quoque per lucos vulgo exaud'-ta si^entes 
Ingens. e- simulacra mcdis pallentia miris 
V^isa subcbicurjm ncctis. ' Virg^ 

t The story of Brutus, and his evil genius, is well ktr^wn Nor 
niU3t It be denied, that the precise words of the specrre torhe he- 
ro were, I'll meet thee at Ph lippi. Bu*: as this would not air>vver 
mj purpose, 1 ,vas obliged to make an aiieratlon, in the circumstance 

S 2 



210 CONTEMPLATIONS 

heaven cies, in the awakening language of the prophet. 
Prepare to meet thy God, O Israel 1* how little is the 
waiiiiiig regarded ! how soon is it forgot 1 Preposterous 
stupidity I to be utterly unconcerned, where it is the tru- 
est wisdom to take the alarm ; and to be all trepidation, 
where there is nothing really terrible ! Do thou, my soul, 
remember thy Savioui's admonition ; " i will forewarn 
" you, whom you shall fear. Fear not these imaginary 
• " horrors of the night : But fear that awful being, whose 
*' revelation of himself, though with expressions of pecul- 
^' iar mercy, made Moses, his favourite servant, tremble 
" exceedingly. Whose manifestation, when he appears 
^' with inexorable vengeance, will make mighty conquer- 
'^ ors, who were familiar with dangers, and estranged to 
" dismay, call upon the mountains to fall on them, and the 
" rocks to cover them : the menace of whose majestic eye, 
^' when he comes attended with thousand thousands of his 
^* immortal hosts, will ma^e the very heavens cleave asun- 
" der, and the earth fly away, — O ! dread his displeasure ; 
" secure his favour; and then thou mayest commit all thy 
'' other anxieties to the wind; thou mayest laugh at eve- 
^* ry other fear." 

This biings to my mind a memorable and amazing oc- 
currence, recorded in the book of Job ;t which is, I think, 
no inconsiderable proof of the real existence of appari- 
tions,! on some very extraordinary emergencies : while it 

*Amosiv. 12. f Job iv.l2, U,S;c. 

i Is a proof of the real existence of apparitions,— if the sense in 
which I have always understood this pa?sage, be true — Eliphaz, I 
apprehend- was neither in a trance, nor in a dream, but perfectly 
awake. — Though he speaks of sleep j he speaks of it, as fallen not 
upon himself but upon other men. He does SiOt mention dreams, 
though 'omrua, would have suited the verse (if the book be in me- 
tre) aluigether as well as vistones. — It could not surely be a wind, as 
some translate the word. Because the circumstance of standing 
stil) i:- v.or so compatib'e vvi^h the nature of a v/ind; and a wind 
would have pas'^ed above him all around him as well as befpre him. 
Not to add, how low a remark it is, and how unworthy of a place I 
in so august a description, ihat he could nor discern the form of a [ 
wind. — It seem^, therefore, to have been a real spirit : either angelical, I 
as were those which presented themselves to Abraham resting ai the [ 
doov of histei.t, and \v> Lot sitting in ?he gc^e of Sodom ; or else the I 
spirit of some departed saint, as in the case of SamuePs apparition, or j 



ON THE NIGHT. 2i\ 

discountenances those legions of idle tales, which super- 
stition has raised, and credulity received. Since it teac h- 
Tes us, that if at any time, those visitants from the unknown 
Wurld render themselves perceivaole by mortals, it is not 
upon any errand of frivolous consequence, but to convey 
intelligences of the utmost momeni, ur to ^vork impres- 
sions of the highest advantage. 

It was ill the dead of night. All nature lay shrouded in 
darkness. Eveiy creature was buried in sleep. Tiie 
most profound silence reigned through t[:e univeise. In 
these solemn moments, Eiiphaz alone, all wakeful and so- 
litary, was musing upon sublime and iieavenly subjects — 
When, lo I an awful being, from the invisible realms, burst 
into his apartment.* A spirit passed beiore his t>ice. As- 
tonishment seized the beholder. His bones shiveied witli- 
in him; his iicsh trembled all over him; and the huir of 
his head stood erect with horror. — Sudden and unexpect- 
ed was the appearance of the phantom; not such its de- 
parture. It stood still, to preseiiL itself more fully to his 
view. It made a solemn pause, to prepare his mind for 
some momentous message.— After which, a voice was 
heard : a voice, for tne importar.ce of its meaning, worthy 
to be had in everlasting remembrance : for the soienmity 
of its delivery, enough to alarm a heart of stone. It 
spoke; and this was the puiport of its words:- — -^'^ Shall 
'* man, frail man, be just before the mighty God ? Shall 
" even the most accomplished of mortals be pure in the 

the famous appearance of Moses andEl'j ih en the mount of rran s6g- 
uration. — A spiritassuming some vehiciCj in ordei to become visible 
to the human eye: whicti, accordingly, Elipnaz saw, exhibirnig it- 
self as an object of sight: bu': s:.\v so obscurely and indistinc: ly, 
that ke was not able eiii'^er to de^crib-i its aspect, or \o discern whom 
it tesembled. 

* I have given this solenm picture a modern dress ; rather 
for the ?ike of variety g.nd iliuStra.tion, than from any appre- 
hension of imprcY i ng the admirable original. Sncli an a it empt, 
I am sensible, would be more absurdly vain, than to lacquer gold, 
or paint the diamood. The desf^ription, in Eiiphaz's own ian- 
guage» is^wtuland aiTecti ,g to the last degree; a night-piece, 
dressed in all the circumstances of the deepest horror. I ques- 
tion, whether Shakespeare himself, though so pecuUarlv happy 
for his great command of terrifying images, has any thing Supe- 
rior or comparable to this. The judges of hne composition see 



212 



GONTEMPLATIOKS 



'* sight of his Maker ?* Behold, and consider it attentive- 
*' iy. He put no such trust in ii^^ exalted servants, as 
" should bespeak them incapable of defect. And his ve- - 
*' ry angels he charged M^th foily ; as sinking, even in the 
" highest perfection of their holiness, infinitely beneath 
*' his transcendant glories ; as falling, even in all the fidel- 
" ity of their obedience, inexpressibly short of the hom- 
'' age due to his adorable majesty, if angelic natures 
'^ must not presume to justify either themselves or their 
*' services, before uncreated purity ; how much more ab- 
** surd is such a notion, how much more impious such an 
*'. attempt, in them that dwell in houses of clay; whose 
'^ original is from the dust, and whose state is all imper- 
'' fection i" 

I would observe from hence, the very singular necessity 
of that povcity of spirit which entirely renounces its own 
attainments, and most thankfully submits to the righteous- 
ness of the incarnate God. — To inculcate this lesson, the 
Son of the Blessed came down fromi heaven ; and pressed 
no other principal, with so repeated t an importunity, on 

the masterly strokes ; and, I believe, the most ordinary reader 
feels them chilling his blood, and awakening emotions of dread 
in his mind. 

* There seems to be a significant and beautiful gradation in 
the Hebrew, which I have endeavoured to preserve, by a sort of 
paraphrastic version.— The reader will observe a new turn giv- 
en to the sentiment : preferable, I think, to that wfeich our En- 
glish translation exhibits. Not, Shall man be more just than 
God? But, shall man be just before, or in the sight of God '? 
The passage, thus rendered, speaks a truth incomparably more 
weighty, and needful to be inculcated : a truth, exactly parallel 
to that humbling confession of the prophet. We are all as an 
unclean thing ; and to that solemn declaration of the Psalmist, 
In thy sight shall no man living be justified. 

f It is well worthy of our observation, says an excellent com- 
mentator, '* That no one sentence uttered by our Lord, is so 
frequently repeated as this, *' Whosoever shall exalt himself, 
shall be abased ; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalt- 
ed." Which often occurs in the evangelists ; but is never duly 
accomplished in us, till we disclaim all pretension to merit and 
righteousness of our own, and seek them only in the atonement 
and obedience of Jesus Christ. 



ox THE NIGHT. 213 

his hearers. To instil the same doctrine, the Holy Ghost 
touched the lips of the apostles vvi\h sacred eloquence ; 
and made it an enuoent part of their commission, " to de- 
molish every high imagination." That no expedient might 
be wanting, to give it a deep and^asting efficacy on the 
human mind ; a phantom aiises from the valley of the 
shadow of death, or a teacher descends from the habitation 
of spirits. — Whatever then vre neglect, let us not neglect 
to cultivate this grace, which has been sl> variously taught, 
so powerfully enforced. 

Hark. ! a doleful voice — with sudden starts ^and hideous 
screams, it disturbs the siience of the peaceful nigb.t. It 
is ti^e screech-owl, sometimes in frantic, sometimes in 
disconsolate accents, utteriiig her woes.* She fiies the vo- 
cal grove, and shuns the society of all the feathered choir. 
The blooming gardc^ns, and (lowery meads, have no 
charms for her. Obscenvi shades, ragi^ed ruins, and walls 
overgrown with ivy, are her favorite haunts. Above, the 
mouldering precipice nods, and threatens a fall ; belo'v, 
the toad crawls, or the poisonous ^dder hisses. The 
sprightly morning, which awakens other animals into joy, 
administei's no pleasure to this gloomy rtcluse. E^ en the 
smiHng face of day is her adversion ; and ail its lovely 
scenes create nothing but uneasiness. 

So, iust so, would it rave wiUi the ungodlys were it pos- 
sible tf suppose their ^chul^sion into the chaste and bright 
abodes of endless felicity > Tiiey would find nothing but 
disappointment and shame, even at the f nintain head of 
happiness and honour — For how could the tongue, habit- 
uated to profineoe^iS, taste any delight in the harmoni- 
ous adorati )ns of Heaven / Kov.' could tae lips, cankered 
%vi+h slander, relish the language of everlasting praise ? 
Wiiere would be the satisfaction of the vain beauty, or the 
supercilious grandee ; Since, in the temple of the skies, 

"^ Solaqiie culmiiiibiis fj-rali carmine bubo 
Sa3pe queri, longasqae in .letum ducere voces. 

Thas sinig that chariniag genius, that prince of the ancient po- 
ets, thac most consumniate master of elegance and accuracy; 
ail whose sentiments are nature, whose every descripticn is a 
picture, whose, whole language is music. Virgil. 



214 CO^'TRMPLATIO^S 

rio incense of flattery would be adcr.essed to the former ; 
nor any obsequious homage paid to the latter, — The spot- 
lebs and incoriCeivable purity of the blessed God, would 
flash confusion on the lascivious eye. The envious mind 
must be on a rack of self-tormeiiting passions, to observe 
millions of happy bciiigs, shining in ail the perfections of 
glory, and solacing thernselves in the fulness of joy. — In 
short, the unsanctifu d souL anndst holy avid triumphant 
spirits ; even in the refi'jed regions of bliss end immor- 
talitv ; would be like this melancholy bird, dislodi2:ed from 
her oarksome retirement, and imprisoned under the beams 
of day.* 

The voice of this creature screaming at our windovvs, 
or of the rx^tn croaking over our houses^ is, they say, a 
token of approaching death. Tnere are persons ^vho 
v/ould regard such an incident witli no smau degree of 
solicitude. Trivial as it is, it would damp their spirits, 
perhaps break their rest. One cannot but \vonJer that 
people should siiffer themselves to be affrighted at such 
fantastical, and yet be quite unalfected with reak presages 
of their dissolution. Real presages of this awful event, 
address us fi'om every quarter. What are these incum- 
bent glooms* which overwLeln; the world.- bu" a kind of 
pall provided for nature ; and - : of that long night, 

which will quickly ^over ihe ants of the whole 

earth ? What an 'rinnity has the sleep. t winch wil! very 



Id he^ of the r- 
inl^- :o > icodeiJii's. 



\ ^Tl2at emphasis 
■•i:::u in Lis me- 
i:.y unto thee, 
1 m::. the kingdom 
: rlie supreme Judge, 
. / ::. teacher in Israe].— 
h loie to the least convroin, 
hat uorenewcdmoriiais, who 
;all not enter tlit^ habitations 



jCXCcpca man be corn a^ain. he 

of heaven : q. d. '' I v^ .^c -he ^ 

*' aiid ^peak with the c:-iidt.-^c- 

*''lhovgh I might, wllhcul: leh 

*' pass it into a sov^reigi: decree 

*'are s-a^es to eorrapt appetite 

*' of rhe just : I rather clioose to represent it as a ease uttprly 

** impossible ; and charge clie calamity, not upon divine sevcri- 

** ty, but apon human folly. Such persons, from the very na- 

*' ture of things, preclude tliemseives ; they incapacitate their 

*^ onai minds ; and eontrarievies must must be reconciled, be- 

** i'o:e they in their nnreaenerate condition, can be partakers of 

*' ti?.ose spiritual and sublime deliihts." John iii. 3. 



t Et consanguineus lethi sopor.- 



-Firs. 



ON TKS NIGHT. 215 

-soon wcjgh down my eye-iids, with that state of entire 
cessation, in whicii ail my senses must be laid aside! Tne 
silent chamber, and the bed of slumber, are a very signifi- 
cant representation of the land, wheie ali things are hush- 
ed, all tnmgs are forgotten. What meant tlrat deep ueath- 
beii note, which, the other evenirig saddened the air i La- 
den with heaviest accents, it struck our ears, and seemed 
to knock at tne door of our hearts Smely it brought a 
message to surviving mortals, and thus the tidings ran : 
*^ Moitals, the destroyer of your race is on his w^ay. 
" Tne last enemy has bf gun the pursuit ; and is gain- 
" ing ground upon you, every moment. His paths are 
" strewed with heaps of slain. Even now his javelin has 
• laid one of your aeignbours in the dust; and will soon, 
'^ veiy soon, aim the inevitable blow at each of your l-ives." 
We need not go down to the charnel-house, nor carry 
our seai'ch into the repositories of the dead, in order to find 
memorials of our impending doom. A multitude of these 
remembrances are planted in all our paths, and point the 
heedless passengers to their long home. I can hardly 
enter a considerable town, but I meet the funeral proces- 
sion, or the mourners goh.g about the streets. The hatch- 
ment suspended on the walls, or the crape streaming in 
the airvare silent intimations, that both rich and poor have 
been emptying their houses, and replenishing their sepul- 
chres. 1 can scarce join in any conversation, but mention 
is made of some that are given over by the physician, and 
hovering on the confines of eternity ; of others, that have 
just dropt their clay amidst weeping friends, and are gone 
to appear before the judge of all the eaitb. There is not 
a news-paper comes to my hand, but, amidst all its en- 
tertaining narrations, reads several serious lectures of 
mortality. What else are the repeated accouiits^ — of age 
worn out by siow coiisuming sicknesses — of youth dashed 
to pieces by some sudden stroke of casualty — of patriots 
exchanging their seats in the senate f() ' a lodging in the 
tomb — of misers resigning their breath, and (O relentless 
destiny !) leaving their very riches ibr others 1 Even the 
rehicles of our amusements are registers of the deceased ; 
and the- voice of fame seldom sounds, b-„t i:i concert with 
aknelL 

These monitors croud every place ; not so n'^-ir'^ ^s the 
scenes of our diversions excepted. What are inc ueco- 



216 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



rations of our public buildings, and the most elegant fur- 
niture of our parlours, but the imagery of death, and tro- 
phies of the tomb ? That marble bust, and those gilded 
pictures, how solemnly they recognize the fate of others, 
and speakingly remind usof our own! I see, I hear, and 
O ! 1 feel this great truth. It is interwoven with my con- 
stitution. The frequent decays of the structure foretel its 
final ruin. What are all the pains, that have been darted 
through m.y limbs ; what every disease, that has assaulted 
my health ; but the advanced guards of the foe ? What 
are the languors and weariness that attend the labours of 
each revolving day, but the more seci^et practices of the 
adversary, slowly undermining the earthly tabernacle ? 

Amidst so many noti-es, shall we go on thoughtless and 
unconcerned? Can none of these prognostics, which are 
sure as oracles, awaken our attention, and engage our cir- 
cumspection ? Noah; it is written, being warned of God, 
prepared an ark. Imitate, my soul, imitate this example. 
Admonished by such a cloud of witnesses, be continually 
putting thyself in a readiness for the last change. Let not 
that day, of which thou hast so many infallible signs, come 
upon thee unawares.—- -Get the ivy untwined, and thy af- 
fections disentangled from this enchanting world, that thou 
mayest be able to quit it without reluctance. Get the 
dreadful hand-writing cancelled, and all thy sins blotted 
out, that thou mayest depart in peace, and have nothing 
to fear at the decisive tribunal. Get, O ! get thyself in- 
terested in the Redeemer's merits, and transformed into 
his sacred image ; then shalt thou be meet for the inheri- 
tance of saints in light, and mayest even desire to be dis- 
solved, and to be with Christ. 

Sometimes, in my evening walk, I have heard 



-The wakeful bird 



Sing darkling, and in shadiest covert hid, 
Tune her nocturnal note.* 

How different the airs of this charming songster, from 
those harsh and boding outcries ! The little creature ran 
through all the variations of music ; and shewed herself 
mistress of every grace, which constitutes or embellishes 

Milu Par. Lost, b. III. I. 38. 






ON THE NIGHT. 217 

harmony. — Sometimes she swells a manly throat, and her 
song kmdles into ardor. The lone is so bold, and strikes 
with such energy, you would imagine the sprightly seren- 
adcr in the very next thicket. Anon the strain languish- 
es, and the mournful warbler melts into tenderness. The 
melancholy notes just steal upon the shades, and faintly 
touch your ear ; or, iu soft and sadly pleasing accents, 
they seem to die along the distant vale. Silence is pleasr- 
ed, and night listens to the thrilling tale. 

What an invitation is this, to slip away from the throng- 
ed city ? This coy and modest minstrel entertains only the 
lovers of retirement. Those who are carousing over their 
bowls, or ranting at the riotous club, lose this feast of har- 
mony. In like manner, the pleasures of religion, and the 
joy of reconciliation with God ; the satisfactions arising 
from an established interest in Christ, and from the pros- 
pect of a blissful immortality ; these are all lost to the 
mind, that is ever in the croud ; and dares not, or delights 
not, to retire into itself. Are we charmed with the night- 
ingale's song ? Do we wish to have it nearer, and hear it 
oftener ? Let us seek a renewed heart, and a resigned will ; 
a conscience that whispers peace, and passions that are 
tuned by grace. Then shall we never want a melody in 
our own breast, far more musically pleasing than sweet 
Philomela's strain. 

As different as the voices of these birds, are the cir- 
cumstances of those few persons who continue awake.— 
Some are squandering, pearls shall I say, or kingdoms ? 
No ; but what is unspeakably more precious, time; squan- 
dering this inestimable talent with the most senseless and 
"Wanton prodigality. Not content with allowing a few 
spare minutes for the purpose of necessary recreation, 
they lavish many hours, devote whole nights, to the idle 
diversion of shuffling, ranging, and detaching a set of 
painted pasteboards. — Others, instead of this busy trifling, 
act the part of their own tormentors. They even piquet 
themselves,* and call it amusement ^ they are torn by wild 
horses, yet term it a sport. What else is the gamester's 
practice ? His mind is -stretched on the tenter-hooks of 
anxious suspence and agitated by the fiercest extremes of 
hope and fear. While the dice are rattling, his heart is 

♦ Alluding to a very painful punishment inflicted on delinquents 
among the soldiery^ 



218 



0ONTEMPLATIONS 



throbbing ; his fortune is tottering : and possibly, at the 
very next throw, the one sinks in the gulf of ruin, the 
other is hurried into the rage of distraction. 

Some, snatched from the bloom of health, and the lap 
of plenty, are confined to the chamber of sickness : ivhere 
they are constrained, either to plunge into the everlasting 
world, in an unprepared condition; or else (sad alterna- 
tive !) to think over all the foiiies of a heedless life, and 
all the bitterness of approaching death. The disease ra- 
ges ; it baffles the force of medicine ; and urges the re- 
luctant wretch to the brink of the precipice : while furies 
rouse the conscience, and point at the bottomless pit be- 
low. — Perhaps, his drooping mother, deprived long ago 
of the husband of her bosom, and bereft of ?M her off- 
spring, is, even now, receiving the blow which consum- 
mates her calamities.* In vain she tries to assuage the 
sorrows of a beloved son ; in vain she attempts with her 
tender offices, to prolong a life deai'er than her own. He 
faints in her arms; he bows his head; he sinks in death. 
Fatal, doubly fatal that last expiring pang ! While it dis- 
lodges the unwilling soul, it rends an only child from the 
yearning embraces of a parent, and tears away the sup- 
port of her age from a disconsolate widow. 

While those long for a reprieve, others invite the stroke, 
quite weary of the world, with a restless impatience, they 
sigh for dissolution : some pining away under the tedious 
decays of an incurable consumption ; or gasping for 

• This brings to my mind one of the deepest mourriing pieces ex- 
tant in the production of the pen. The sacred historian paints it in 
all the simplicity of style, yet with all the strength ot coloring.— 
When Jesus came nigh tothe gate of the city, behold ! there was a 
dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a 
widow — What a gradation is here ! How pathetically beautiful ! 
Every fresh circumstance widens the wound ; aggravates the ca- 
lamity ; till the description is worked up into the mcst finished pic- 
ture of exquisite and inconsolable distress.— He was a young man ; 
cutoff in the flower of life, amidst a thousand gay expectations, 
and smiling hopes. A son ; an only son ; the afflicted mother's all: 
So that none remained to preserve the name, or perpetuate the 
family. What rendered the case still more deplorable, she was a 
widow : Left entirely desolate ; abandoned to her woes ,♦ without a - 
tty to share her sorrows, or to comfort her under the irreparable I 
loss.—- Is not this a fine sketch of the impassioned and picturesque I [ 
Who can consider the narrative with any attention, and not feel his 
he^rt penetrated with % tender commiseration ? Luke vii. 12, 



ON THE NIGHT. 319 

breath, and almost suffocated by an inundation of dropsi- 
cal waters. On some a relentless cancer has fastened its 
envenomed teeth ; and is gnawing them, though in the 
midst of bodily vigour, in the midst of pitying friends, 
gradually tu death. Others are on a rack of agonies, by 
coavuhive fits ot the stone. O I how the pain writlies their 
limbs; how the sweat bedews their flesh ; and their eye- 
balls Wildly roll 1 Alethiuks the night condoles with these 
her distressed children ; and sheds dewy tears over their 
sorrowful abodes. — But of all mortals, they are the most 
exquisitely miserable*., who groan beneath the pressure of 
a melancholy mind, or smart under the lashes of a resent- 
ful coMscience. Though robed in ermine, or covered with 
je^Acis, the state of a slave chained to the galleys, or of an 
exile coiidemned to the mines, is a perfect paradise com- 
pared with theirs. 

O ! that toe votaries of mirth, whose life is a continued 
round of merriment and whim, would bestow one serious 
reflection on this variety of human woes ! It might teach 
them to be less enamoured with the few languid sweets, 
that are thinly scattered through this vale of tears, and en- 
vironed with such a multitude of ragged thorns. It might 
teach them no longer to dance away their years, with a 
giddy rambling impulse; but to aspire with a determined 
aim, after those happy regions, where deligbJ^, abundant 
and unembitttred, flow. wil 

Can there be circumstances, which a muVi of wisdom 
would more earnestly deprecate, than these several instan- 
ces of grievous tribulation r There are; and what is very 
astonishing, they are frequently the desire and choice of 
those, who fancy themselves the sole heirs of happiness : 
those 1 mean who are launching out into the depth of ex- 
travagance, and running excessive lengths of riot : Who 
are prostituting their reputation, and sacrificing their 
peace, to the gratification of their lusts ; sapping the foun- 
dation of their health, in debaucheries ; or shipwrecking 
the interests of their families, in their bowels ; and what 
is worse, are forfeiting the joys of an eternal heaven, for 
the sordid satisfactions of the beast, for the transitory 
sensations of an hour. — Ye slaves of appetite, how far am 
I from envying your gross sensualities, and voluptuous re- 
vels ! Little, ah t little are you sensible, that while indul- 
gence showers her roses, and luxury diffuses her odours; 



220 CONTEMPLATIONS 

they scatter poisons also, and shed unheeded bane :* Evils 
incomparably more malignant, than the wormwood and 
gall of the sharpest affliction. — Since death is in the drun- 
kard's cup, and worse than poinards in the harlot's em- 
brace, may it ever be the privilege of the man whom I 
love, to go without his share of these pestilent sweets ! t 

Abundance of living sparks glitter in the lanes, and 
twinkle under the hedges. I suppose they are the glow- 
worms ; which have lighted their little lamps, and obtain- 
ed leave, through the absence of the sun, to play a feeble 
beam. A faint glimmer just servet to render them per- 
ceivable, without tending at all to dissipate the shades, or 
making any amends for the departed day. — Should some 
weather-beaten traveller, dropping with wet, and shiver- 
ing with cold,'hover round this mimicry of fire, in order to 
dry his garments, and warm his benumbed limbs ; should 
some bewildered traveller, groping for his way, in a star- 
less night and trackless desert, take one of these languid 
tapers, as a light to his feet, and a lantern to his paths : 
How certainly would both the one and the other be frus- 
trated of their expectation I — And are they more like- 
ly to^ucceed, who, neglecting that sovereign balm, which 
distiUed from the cross, apply any carnal diversion, to heal 
the anxiety of the mind ? Who, deaf to the infallible decis- 
ions of revela^^on, resign themselves over to the erroneous 
conjectures gg^eason, in order to find the way that leadeth 
unto life ? O., lastly, who have recourse to the froth of 
this vain world, for a satisfactory portion, and a substantial 
happiness ? Their conduct is in no degree wiser ; their 
disappointment equally sure ; and their miscarriage infi- 
nitely more disastrous. To speak in the delicate lan- 
guage of a sacred writer, " they sow the wind, and will 
reap he whirlwind. "^: 

* Yes : in the flowers that wreath the sparkling bowl, 
Fell adders hiss, and pois'nous serpeatsroll- 

Prior's Sol, 

t Quam suave est suavitatibus istis carere ! was St. Augustine's 
pious exclamation. The substance of which Mi. Pope has expres^ 
sed, with nnore simplicity, and with no less dignity ; 

Count all th' advantage prosperous Vice attains ; 
'Ti.s but what Virtue flies from, and disdains, 

\ Hos. viii 7k 



ON THE NIGHt. 62*1 

To speak more plainly ; the pleasures of the world, 
which we are ail so prone to dote upon ; and the powers 
of talien reason, wiiich some are so apt to idolize ;* are not 
only vain, but treacherous : Not ouiy a painted flame, like 
those sparkling animals ; but much like those unctilous 
exhalacions, which arise from the marshy ground, and of- 
ten dance before the eyes of the benighted wayfaring man. 
Kindled into a sort of fire, they personate a guide, and 
seem to offer their service ; but, blazing With delusive 
light, mislead their followers into hidden pits, headlong 
precipices, and unfathomable gulfs; where, far from his 
beloved friends, far from all hopes of succour, the unhap- 
py wanderer is swallowed up, and lost. 

Not long ago, we observed a very surprising appear- 
ance in the western sky. A prodigious star took its fla- 
ming route through these coasts ; and trailed, as it passed, 
a tremendous length of fire, almost over half the heavens. 
Some, I imagine, viewed this portentous stranger, with 
much the same anxious amazement, as Belshazzar be- 
held the hand- writing upon tne wall. Some looked upon 
it as a bloody flag,t hung out by divine resentment, over a 

guilty world. Some read, in its glaring visage, the fate of 

* I hope it will be observed, that I am far from descrying that 
noble faculty of reasou, when exerted in her proper sphere; when 
acung in a deferential subordination to the revealed will of Heaven- 
M/h'le she exercises her powers within these appointed limits, she 
is unspeakably serviceable and cannot be too industriously cultivat- 
ed, — But^ when she sets herself in proud contradistinction to the sa- 
cred oracles; when, all-arrogant and self-sufficient, she says to the 
word of scripture, I have no need of thee ; she is then, I must be 
bold to maintain, not only a giovv-worm, but an ignis fatuus ; not 
only ^ bubble, but a snare. 

May not this remark, with the strictest propriety, and without 
the least limitation, be applied to the generality cf our modern ro- 
iToances, novels, and theatrical entertainments ? These are common., 
iy calculated to inflame a wanton fancy ; or, if conducted with so 
much modesty, as not to debauch the affections, they pervert the 
judgment, and bewilder the taste. By^ their incredible adventures j 
their extravagant parade of gallantry ; and their characters, widely 
different from truth ard nature ; they inspire foolish conceits • be- 
get idle expectations ; introduce a disgust of genuine history; and 
indispose then admirers to acquiesce in the decent civiliticSj Qr to 
relish the sober satisfactions, of common life. 

* — - — Liqu'da si quando nocte comets 

Sangumei lugubre ^abent. Virg, 

T 2 



222 CONTEMPLATIONS 

nations, and the fall of kingdoms*. To others, it shook, 
or seeriied to shake, pestilence and war fronri its horrid 
hair.^ — For my part, I am not so superstitious as to regard 
%yhat every astrologer has to prognosticate, upon the ac- 
cession of a comet, or the projection of its huge vapoury 
train. Nothing can be more precarious and unjustifiable, 
than to draw siTch conclusions from such events; since 
they neither are preternatural events, nor do they throw the 
frame of things into any disorder. I would rather adore 
that Omnipotent Being, who rolled those stupendous orbs 
from his creating hand ; and leads them, by his providen- 
tial eye, through unmeasurable tracts of aether : Who 
bids them now approach the sun, and glow with unsuffer- 
able ardors ;t now retreat to the utmost bounds of our 
planetary system, and make their entry among othtir 
worlds. 

They are harmless visitants, I acquit them from the 
charge of causing, or being accessary to, desolating 
plagues. Would to God, there were no other more for- 
midable indications of approaching judgments, or impen- 
ding ruin I But, alas ! when vice becomes predominant, 
and irreligion almost epidemical : When the Sabbaths of 
a jealous God are notoriously profaned ; and that " name, 
which is great, wonderful, and holy," is prostituted to the 
meanest, or abused to the most execrable purposes : 
When the worship of our Great Creator and Preserver 
is banished from many of the most conspicuous families ; 
and it is deemed a piece of rude impertinence, so much as 
to mention the gracious R« deemer, in our genteel inter- 
views : When it passes f'>r an elegant freedom of behav- 
iour, to ridicule the mysteries of Christianity ; and a spe- 
cies of refined conversation, to taint the air with lascivious 
liints : When those who sit in the scorner's chair, sin with 
a high hand : And many of those who wear the profess- 
or*s garb, are destitute of the power, and content them- 

-Ctinennque timendi 



^"•'^. '^ — — 

Sideris, et terris mutaniem regna cometem. — "Lucan. 

t ** The comet in the year 16S0, according to Sir Isaac Newton's 
computation, was." in its nearest approach, abr-ve 166 times nearer , 
the t\in than the earth is Consequently, its beat w a^ 28,000 times | 
greater than that of summer. So that a ball of iron as big as the i 
earth, heated by it, would hardly become cog) in 50 000 years.*' 

Dcrb, Astr. Tbeol. p. 237. 



ON THE NIGHT. 223 

I 

selves with the mere form of g 'Jtliness : When such is 
the stace of a community, there is reason, too apparent 
reason, to be horribly afraid. Such pbsenomena, aboun- 
ding in the moral world, are not fanciful, but real omens. 
Will not an injured God "be avenged on such a nation as 
. this ?" Will he not be provoked to ** sweep it with the be- 
soiA of destruction !'** 

O ! that the inhabitants of Great Britain would lay these 
alarming considerations to heart ! The Lord of hosts has 
commanded the sword of civil discoid to return into its 
sheath. But have we returned every one from his evil 
ivays ? Are we become a renewed people ; devoted to a 
dying Saviour ; and zealous of good works I — What 
mean those peals of sobs, which burst from the expiring 
cattle '! What mean those melancholy moans, where the 
lusty droves were wont to low ?t What mean those ar- 
rows of untimely death, discharged on our innocent and 
useful animals ? 

No wantonness of sloth has visited t-he blood of these 
laborious, temperate creatures. They have contracted 
no disease from unseasonable indulgences, and inordinate 
revellings. The pure stream is their drink ; the simple 
herb their repast. Neither care disturbs their sleep, nor 
passion inflames their breast. Whence then are they vis- 
ited with such terrible disorders, as no prudence can pre- 
vent, nor any medicines heal ? — Surely these calamities 
are the weapons of divine displeasure, and manifest chas- 
tisements of an evil generation.^ Surely God, the " God 

* Isa. xiv. 23. The Eternal Sovereign, spe:iking cf Babylon, 
denounces this threarenmg. I wUl sweep it with the besom of des- 
truciion. — What a ncble, but dreadful in.age, is here ! Hovv strong, 
ly and awfully portrayed ? How pregnan^ almoin its signification ! 
jntimating the vie nature, and expressing the total extirpation of 
this wicked people ; at the sanae time suggesting tJie perfect ease, 
with wh.ch the righteous Gcd would execute his intended ven- 
geance. 

t If these papers should be so happy as to outlive thefr author, 
perhaps it may be needful to inform posterity^ 'hat the above men- 
tioned hints allude to a most terrible, conraglous, and mortal dis- 
temper, raging among the horned cattle, in various parts of the 
kingdom. 

iHinc laetisvituli vulgo moriuntur in he»-bis, 
Et dulces animas plena ad prsesepia reddunt. 



224 CONTEMPLATIONS 

to whom vengeance be- ngetn," has still a. controversy 
-vvua GUI siniul land. Aiici wno can teii, where the visita- 
tion Will end / what a stoim nay foilovv these prelusive 
drops ? — O ! that we m-y ^* ht^ar tne rod, and who hath 
a;>poiiitt;ci it !" Taugat by these penal effects of our diso- 
bedience, may we reniove the accursed thing* from our 
tents ; our practices, our hearts ! May we turn iiom all 
ungodliness, before wrath come upon us to the uttermost ; 
be.ore iniquity prove our ruin ! 

Sometimes, at this hour, another most remarkable sight 
amuses the curious, and alarms the vulgar. A blaze of 
lambent meteors is kindled; or some very extraordinary 
lights are refracted, in the quarters of the North — The 
streams of radiance, like legions rusliing to the engage- 
ment, meet and mingle, insomuch that the air seems to 
be all conflicting fire. Within a while they start from 
one another ; and, like legions in precipitate flight, sweep, 
each a separate way, through the firmament. Now they 
are quiescent ; anon they are thrown into a quivering mo- 
tion ; presently the whole horizon is illuminated with the 
glancing flames. Sometimes, with an aspect awfully lu- 
dicrous, they represent extravagant and antic vagaries : 
At other times, you would suspect, that some invisible 
band was playing off the dumb artillery of the skies ; and 
by a strange expedient, giving us the flash, without the 
roar. 

The villagers gaze at the spectacle, first with wonder, 
then with horror. A general panic seizes the country. 
Every heart throbs, and every face is pale. The crowds 
that flock together, instead of diminishing, increase the 
dread. They catch contagion from each other's looks and 
words ; wdiile fear is in every eye, and every tongue 
speaks the language of terror. Some see hideous shapes : 
armies mixing in fierce encounter, or fields swimming 
with blood. Some foresee diretul events ; states over- 
thrown, or mighty monarchs tottering on their thrones. 
Others, scared with still more frightful apprehensions, 
think of nothing but the day of doom. " Sure,'^ says one, 
" the unalterable hour is struck, and the end of all things 

Balatu hinc pecorum, et crebrir. ir.ug-t'ibusarrities, 
Arentesque sonant ripae, collc-que bupini — Fir^, 

* Josh. vi. 1, 



ON THE NIGHT. ' 225 

ODTTie." — ''See," replies another, " how the blasted stars 
look wan I are not these signs of the Son of man, coming 
in the clouds of Heaven .'" — '' Jesus ! prepare us'* (cries 
a third and lifts up his eyes in devotion) " for the Arch- 
angel's trump, and the great tribunal '' 
/ If this waving brightness, which plays innocently over 
our heads, be so amazing to multitudes, what inexpressi- 
ble consternation must overwhelm unthiiiking moitals, 
when the general conflagration commences ! Tne day, the 
dreadful day, is approaching ; *' in which the Heavens shall 
" pass away with a great noise,* and the elements shall 
" melt with fervent heat; the earth also, and all the works 
*' that are therein, shall be burnt up." That mighty hand.' 
which once opened the windows from on high, and broke 
up the fountains of the great deep, will then unlock all the 
magazines of fire, and pour a second deluge upon the 
earth. The vengeful flames, kindled by the breath of the 
Almighty, spread themselves ff'om the centre to the cir- 
cumference. Nothing can withstand their impetuosity ; 
nothing can escape their rage. Universal desolation at- 
tends their progress. Magnificent palaces, and solemn 
temples are laid in ashes. Spacious cities, and impregna- 
ble towers, are mingled in one smoking mass. Not only^ 
the .pi-oductions of human art, but the works of Almighty 
Power, are tuel for the devouring element. The evcrlas- 

* 2 Pet. iii. 10* I have always thought this verse an eminent in- 
stance of that kind of beautiful writi.ng^ in which the very sound 
bears a sort of s'^gnificancy : at least, carries an exact correspond- 
ence vvirli the sense. The original expression is one of the hoars- 
est and deepest words in language. Nothing could be more exquis- 
itely adapted to atfect the ear as well as iinpress the imaginauon, 
v/irh the wreck of Nature, and ihe c^ash of a falling world — I 
scarce ever read this clau-e, but it brings to my mind that admned 
descriprion in Milton : 

-On a sudden open fly, 



Whh impetuous recod and jarring sound, 

Th' infernal doors, and on their hmges grate 

Harsh thunder.. ^— Book !!• .1 879. 

It isa plessingemploy. and a very laudable office of true criticism, 
to point cut these inferior recommendations of the sacred classics. 
Though, I believe the inspired writers themselves, amidst all the 
elevation and magnificence of their divine ideas, disdained a scrupu- 
lous atterition to such little niceties of style. 



226 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



ting mountains melt, like the snows which cover their 
summit. Ev eh vast oceans serve only to auj^ment the in- 
conceivable rapidity and fury of the biaze. O ! how shall 
I, or others stand undismayed amidst the glare ol a burn- 
ing- world, unless the Lord Jehovah be our defence ? How 
shall we be upaeid in security, when the giobe itself is 
si.iking in a fiery ruin, unless ttie Rock of Ages be our 
support / 

Behold ! anew spectacle of wonder ! The moon is ma- 
king her entry on the Eabtern sky. See her risir-g in 
clouded majesty ! opening, as it were, and asserting her o- 
rigiijal commission to rule over the nigiit. All grand and 
stately, but somewhat sullied is her aspect. However, 
she brightens, as she advances ; and grows clearer, as she 
climbs higher : till, at length, her silver loses all its 
diuss ; she unveils her peerless light ; and becomes " the 
4)eauty of Heaven, the glo^y of the stars;'** delighting ev- 
ery eye, and cheering the whole world, with the bright- 
ness of her appearance, and the softness of her splendors. 
O ! thou Queen of the shades! may it be my ambition to 
follow this thy instructive example ! While others are 
fond to transcribe the fashions of little courts, and to mim- 
ic personages of inferior state ; be it mine to imitate thy 
improving purity ! May my conduct become more un- 
blemished, and my temper more refined, as I proceed far- 
ther and farther in rny probationary course ! May every 
sordid desire wear away, and every irregular appetite be 
p;raduaily lost, as I make nearer approaches to the celes- 
tial mansions ! — Will not this be a comfortable evidence, 
that 1 too shall shine in my adored Redeemer's kingdom ? 
shine with a richer lustre, than that which radiates from 
thy lesplendeut orb ; shine with an unfading lustre, when 
every ray that beams from thy beauteous sphere, is total- 
ly extinguished. 

The day afforded us a variety of entertaining sights. 
These were all withdrawn, at the accession of darkness. 
The stars, kindly oiBcious, immediately lend us their aid. 
This served to alleviate the frown of night, rather than to 
recover the objects from their obscurity. A faint i^y, 
scarcely reflected, and not from the entire surface of | 
things, gave the straining eye a very imperfect glimpse ; 



* Ecchis xliii. 9. 

^ Luc.dum ccjeli decus.- 



■Hor. 



ON THE NIGHT. '227 

such as rathei* mocked, than satibfied vision. — Now the 
moon is risen, and has collected all hei beams ; the veil is 
taken off f . om the countenance of Nature. 1 see the re- 
cumbent flocks ; I see the green hedge-rows, though 
without the feathered choristers hopping from spray to 
spray. In short, I see once again the world's great pic- 
ture ; not indeed in its late lively colors, but more delicate- 
ly shaded, and arrayed in softer charms * 

What a majestic scene is here ! incomparably grand, 
and exquisitely fine ! — The moon like an immense crys- 
tal lamp, pendent on the magnificent ceiling of the heav- 
ens. The stars, like so many thousands of golden tapers, 
fixed in their azure sockets. All pouring their lustre on 
spacious cities, and lofty mountains ; glittering on the o- 
cean ; gleaming on the forest ; and opening a prospect* 
wide as the eye can glance, more various than fancy can 
paint.f — We are forward to admire the performances of 
human art. A landscape, elegantly designed, and execu- 
ted with a masterly hand; apiece of statuary, which 
seems, amidst all the recommendations of exact propor- 
tion, and graceful attitude, to soften into flesh, and almost 
breathe with life ; these little imitations of Nature, we 
behold with a pleasing surprise. And shall we be lessaf- 
fectedj less delighted, with the inexpressibly noble and 

* Now reigns 

Full orbM che moon, and with more pleasing light 
Shadowy sets off the face of things.— jilfi/f. 

t As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, 
O'er heav'n*s clear azure spreads her sacred light ; 
W hen not a breath disturbs the deep serene, 
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene, 
Around her throne the vivid planets roil, 
And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole : 
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, 
And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head ; 
Then shine the vales ; the rocks m prospect ris« ; 
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; 
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, 
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light. — Had. VIII. 

I transcribed these lines, because Mr. Pope says, they exh'bitin the 
original, the finest night- piece in poetry. z\nd, if they are sc beauti- 
ful in Homer's language, who can suspect their suffering any disad= 
vantage from the pen of his admirable translator ? 



228 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



completely finished original ! — The ample dimensions of 
Ranelagb's dome ; the gay illuminations of Vauxhail 
grove; I should scorn to mention on such an occasion, 
were they not the objects of general admiration. Shall 
we be charmed with those puny essays of finite ingenuity ; 
and touched with no transportj at this stupendous display 
of omnipotent skill ? at the august grandeur, and shining 
staieliness of the firmament ? which forms an alcove tor 
ten thousand worlds, and is ornamented with myriads of 
everlasting luminaries. — Surely, this must betray, not on- 
ly a total want of religion, but the most abject littleness of 
mind, and the utmost poverty of genius. 

The moon is not barely *' an ornament in the high pla- 
ces of the Lora,"* but of signal service to the inhabittints 
of the earth. — ^How uncomfortable is deep, pitchy, total 
darkness! especially in the long absence of the Winter's 
sun. Welcome therefore, thrice welcome, this auspi- 
cious gift of Providence, to enliven the nocturnal gloom, 
and line with silver the n; en-coloured mantle of night ! — 
How desirable to have our summer-evenings illuminated ; 
that we may be able to tread the dewy meads, and breathe 
the delicious fragrance of oui' gardens; especially, when 
the sultry heats render it irksome and fatiguing, to walk 
abroad by dav. — How cheering to the shepherd the use 
of this universal lantern ; as he tends his fleecy charge, or 
late consigns them to theii* hurdled cots ! How comfort- 
able and how advantageous to the mariner, as he ploughs 
the midnight main, to adjust the tackling, to explore his 
way, and under the influence of this beaming sconce, to a- 
void the fatal rock ! — For these, and other beneficial pur- 
poses, the hand of the Almaghty has hung the stately 
branch on high ; and filled it with a splendor, not confined 
to a single edifice, or commensurate to a single square, 
but diffusive as the whole extent of the hemisphere. 

The most faithful of our inferior servants are some^ 
tim s tardy in their office, sometimes negligent of their 
duty. But this celestial attendant is miost exactly punc- 
tual, at all the stated periods iof her ministration. If we 
choose to prolong our journey, after the sun is gone 
down ; the moon, during her whole increase, is always 
ready to act in the capacity of a guide, if we are inclined 
to set out very early in the morning ; the i^oon, in her 

. ^ * Ecdus/xliii, 9. 



ON THE NIGHT. 229 

decrease, prevents the dawnj on purpose to offer her as- 
sistance. And, because it is so pleasant a thing for the 
eyes to behold the light, the mocn, at her full, by a course 
of uninteraiitted waiting, gives us, as it were, a double 
day. — How apparently has the Divine Wisdom interested 
^itself, in providing even for the pleasurable accommoda- 
lion of man ? How desirous, that he should want no pieco 
of commodious furniture, no kind of delightful conven- 
ience ! and, in prosecution of these benevolent intentions, 
has annexed so valuable an appendage to the terrestrial 
globe. — Justly, therefore, does the Psalmist celebrate that 
admirable constitution which ordained the moon and the 
stars to govern the night, as an instance of rich goodness 
and of mercy which endureth for ever.* 

The moon, it is confessed, is no luminous body. All the 
brightness which beautifies her countenance, is originally 
in the sun, and no more than transmissively in her. That 
glorious orb is the parent of day, and the palace of light. 
From thence the morning- star gilds her horn ;t from 
thence the planetary circles are crowned with lustre ; and 
from thence the moon derives all her silver radiance. — Itr 
is pleasing to reflect, that such is the case with the All- 
sufficient Redeemer, and his dependent people. — We are 
replenished from his fulness. What do we possess, 
which we have not received ; and what can we desire, 
which we may not expect ; from that never failing Source 
of all good ? He is the Author of our faith, and the For- 
mer of our graces. In his unspotted life, we see the 
path ; in his meritorious death, the price ; and in his tri- 
umphant resurrection, the proof, of bliss and immortality. 
If we offend, and fall seven times a day ; he is the Lord 
our Peace4 If we are depraved, and our best deeds very 
unworthy ; he is the Lord our Righteous^ess.S If we 

* Psal. cxxxvi* 9. 

f I might, to justify this expression, observe, that the planet Vee 
nus, commonly called the morning star, is found, by oar telescopes, 
freqaently to appear horned ; or to have a crescent of light, some- 
what like the moon, a little before or after her conjunction. But 
this would be a remark too deep and refined for my scheme ; which 
proceeds only upon a superficial knowledge, and the most obvious? 
appearances of Nature. 



230 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



are blind, and even brutish, in heavenly knowledge : hek 
the Lord our Wisdom :* His word dispels the shades ; his 
spirit scatters the intellectual gloom ; his eye looks our 
darkness into day. In short, we are nothing, and " Christ 
is all.'* Worse than defective in ourselves, '' we are 
complete in him/' So that if we shine, it is with delega- 
ted raysj and with borrowed light. We act by a strength, 
and glory in merits, not our own !-^0 ! may we be thor- 
oughly sensible of our dependence on the Saviour ! May 
we constantly imbibe his propitious beams ; and never by 
indulging unbelief or backsliding into folly, withdraw our 
souls from his benign influences ! lest we lose our com- 
fort, and our holiness ; as the fair ruler of the night loses 
her splendor, when her urn is turned from its fountain,! 
and receives n® nM)re communications of solar efful^ 
gence. 

The moon is incessantly varying, either in her aspect, 
or her stages. — Sometimes she looks full upon us, and 
her visage is all lustre. Sometimes she appears in pro- 
file, and shews us only half her enlightened face. Anon 
a radiant crescent but just adorns her brow. Soon it 
dwindles into a slender streak : till, at length, all her 
beauty vanishes, and she becomes a beamless orb — 
Sometimes she rises with the descending day, and begins 
her procession amidst admiring multitudes. Ere long 
she defers her progress till the midnight v^'^tches, and 
steals unobserved upon the sleeping world. Sometimes 
she just enters the edges of the western horizon, and 
drops us a ceremonious visit. Within a while, she sets 
out on her nightly tour, from the opposite regions of the 
East ; traverses the whole hemisphere ; and never offers 
to withdraw, till the more refulgent partners of her sway 
renders her presence unnecessary. — -In a word, she is, 
while conversant among us, still waxing or waning, and 
" never continueth in one stay." 

Such is the moon ; and such are all sublunary things ; 
exposed to perpetual vicissitudes. How often, and how 

*1 Cor. 1.30. 

f Alluding to those truly poetical 1] nes i n M ilton ; 
Hither, as to their fountains, other stars 
Repairing, in their golden urns draw light. 

Par. lost. b.V ILL 564. 



ON THE NIGHT. 231 

scan, have the faint echoes of renown slept in silenc<3, or 
been converted into clamoui^ of obroquy I The same 
lips, almost with the same breath, cry Hosannah, and Cru- 
cify. — Have noXgriches confessed their notorious treache- 
ry, a thou&and and a thousand times ? Either melting a- 
way, like snow in our hands, by insensible degrees ; or 
escaping, like a winged prisoner from its cage, with a 
precipitate flight. — Have we not known the bridegroom's 
closot, an antechamber to the tomb ; and heard the voice, 
which so lately pronounced the sparkling pair husband 
and wife, proclaim an everlasting divorce, and seal the de- 
cree with that solemn asseveration, " Ashes to ashes, dust 
to dust ?" — Our friends, though the medicine of life ; our 
health, though the balm of Nature ; are a most precari- 
ous possession. How soon may the first become a corpse 
in your arms ; and how easily is the last destroyed in its 
vigour ! You have seen, no doubt, a set of pretty painted 
birds perching on your trees, or sporting in your raead- 
ows. You was pleased with the lovely visitants^ that 
brought beauty on their wings, and melccly in their throats. 
But could you insure the continuance of this agreeable 
entertainment ? No, truly. At the least disturbing noise^ 
at tUe least terrifying appearance, they start from their 
seats ; they mount toe skies ; and are gone in an instant^ 
are gone for ever. Would you choose to have a happi- 
ness, which bears date with their arrival, and expires at 
their departure ? II you could not be content with a por- 
tion, enjoyable only through such a fortuitous term, not of 
years, but of moments ; O ! take up with nothing earth- 
ly ; set your affections on things above : there alone is 
^no variableness or shadow of turning." 

Job is not a more illustrious pattern of patience, than an 
eminent exemplification of this remark. — View him in his 
private estate. He heaps up silver as the dust, he wash- 
es his steps in butter, and the rock pours him out rivers 
of oil. — View him inj^is public character. Princes re- 
vere his dignity; the aged listen to his wisdom; every 
eye beholds him with 'delight ; every tongue loads him 
with blessings.— View him in his domestic circumstan- 
ces. On one hand, he is defended by a troop of sons ; on 
the other, adorned with a train of daughters ; and on all 
sides, surrounded by ^'avery great household."— Never 
was human felicity so consummate ; never was disast- 



232 COS^TEMPLATIONS 

S-ous revolution so sudden. The lightning, which consumr 
ed his cattle, was not more terrible, and scarce more in- 
stantaneous. The joyful parent is bereft of his offspring, 
and " his children are buried in death. '* The man 
of affluence is stripped of his abundance ; and he who was 
clothed in scarlet, embraces the dunghill. The venera- 
ble patriarch is the derision of scoundrels ; and the late 
darling of an indulgent Providence, i^ become ** a brother 
to dragons, a companion of owls." — Nor need we go 
back to former ages, for proofs of this afflicting truth. In 
our times, in all times, the wheel continues the same in- 
cessant whirl. And frequently those who are triumphing 
to-day in the highest elevations of joy, to-morrow are be- 
moaning the instability of mortal affairs, in the very 
depths of misery.* — Amidst so much fluctuation and un- 
certainty, how wretched is the condition, which has no an- 
chor of the soul, sure and steadfast ! May thy loving kind- 
ness, O God, be our present treasure ; and thy future glc- 
ly, our reversionary inheritance ! Then shall our happi- 
ness not be like the full-orbed moon, which is "a light 
that decreaseth in its perfection ;" but like the sun, when 
he goeth forth in his strength, and knowelh no other 
change, but that of shining more and more unto the per- 
feet day. 

Methinks, in tliis ever-veirying sphere, I see a represen- 
tation, not only of our temporal advantar-^es, but also of our 
spiritual accomphshnients. Siich, I avn snre, is wl^at the 
kind partiality of a friend, would call my nghteousricss : 

* I believcl may vei-iture to ap]-!/ wha! the Temoui^e ^ay?i of tJie 
affairs of the wicked, to all siibhinary thn}gs, a- a true d^acrip::on oF 
their very gveat instabiliiy ■ job xxii. 15. Their fciir.daiion [ex 
what they reckon their ntoa sol d stable possession) js a i:ccd Yi<^.\yr^ 
ed out.— VvMiich is ere of the buldest ima:e?, arid ir-ost pce-ical 
beauties, I ever met wifh in any langii'jge, sacred or pscfar.e. lu 
order to have a tolerable conception of the \r\\zgc, and a -asteoF its 
beauty, you must suy)pose a torrent of \^,iers,ru.shii'g in bicker ca- 
taracts, and with impetuous ra'pidiiy,' frcm a s^eep and craggy 
STiO'intain. Then imagine to yourfeif an ed h:e, built upon the 
£tirge of this rolling |.>rec''p^ce : wliich has no ct;:tr br^sis ti^an one 
of thore lieadlong whirling waves. Was there ever srch a vcpre- 
tentaticn of transitory prosperity ; tfndirig with '•ncorcr-vable swift- 
ness, into ruin ? Yet such is every form of liuman iij city, that is 
not grounded en Jc^us, and a participation of his merits^ who i^^the 
Rock of Age?: -. on Jesusj and his in^a^e foriTiCd in our hearts , 
whkh ii>thf hoT}c of gioiv. 



ON THE NIGHT. 5S5 

And such, I am apt to suspect,* is the righteousness of 
every man living. Now we exercise it, in some* few in- 
stances, in some little degrees. Anon sin revives, and 
leads our souls into a transient though unwilling captivi- 
ty. Now we are meek ; but soon a ruffling accident inter- 
venes, aiid turns our composure into fretful disquietude. 
Now we are humble ; soon we reflect upon some incon- 
siderable or imaginary superiority over others, and a sud- 
den elatemeiit swells our minds. Now, perhaps, We pos- 
sess a clean heart, and are warm with holy love. But Ol 
how easily is the purity of our affections sullied ! How* 
soon the fervor of our gmtitude cooled ! And is there not 
something amiss even in our best moments ? something 
to be ashamed of, in all we are ; something to be repent- 
ed of, in all we do ? 

With what gladness, therefore, and adoring thankful- 
ness, should we '• submit to the righteousness of our in- 
carnate God ;" and receive as a divine gift, what cannot 
be acquired by human works !t — A writer of the first dis- 
tinction, and nicest discernment, styles the obedience of 
our glorious Surety, an everlasting righteousness;! such 
as was subject to no interruption, nor obscured by the 

* 1 would not be understood, as measuring, in this respect others 
by niyself ; but as taking my estimate froni cne unerring sfandaid 
of scripture. And indeed, proceeding on this evidence, supported 
by this authority. I m'ght have ventured farther than a bare suspi- 
cion. For ♦« there is not a just man upon earth, thatdoe^h good^ 
and sinneth not,'* says the spirit of inspiration by Solomon, (Eccl* 
vij 20.) — Nay, such is the purity, and so extensive '%Ye the de- 
mands, of ihe divine law, that an Apostle makes a still more hum- 
bling acknowledgment ; <» In many things -v^'e offend all, (Jam iii, 
2.)— And the unerring Teacher who most thoroughly knew our 
frame, directs the most advanced^ most established, and most watch- 
iul Christians, to pray dally for the forgiveness of the- da'ly trespas- 
ses. — To which testimonies, I beg leave to add ar« elegant passage 
from the Canticles ; because it not only expresses the sentiment of 
this paragraph, but it illustrates^it by the very same simiiitude. She 
.(the church) is fair as the moon ; clear as the sun. Fair as the 
m< on, the lesser and changeable liglit in her sanctifi cation; clear as 
the sun, che greatei and invariable iunfiinary, in her justification : 
The nibetent holipess of believers being impertect, and-subjec: to 
many inequalities; while their ifif^puced vighieousness ia every way 
complete, and constantly like iiself. Cant. vi. 10. 

t l^om. v. 17.— X. 3. t Ban. ix. 24. 

U 2 



2^4 GO^TEMPLATIOI^r^S 

leaat blemish ; but proceeded always iii the same injiiorni 
tenor of the most spotless perfection. — This righteous- 
iiessj in another sense, answers the Prophet^s exalted 
description ; as its beneficial and sovereign efficacy 
knows no end ; but lasts through all our lite ; lasts in the 
trying hour of death ; lasts at the decisive day of judg- 
ment ;. lasts through every generation : and will last to 
ail eternity. 

Sometimes I have seen that resplendent globe stripped 
of her radiance ; or, according to the emphatical language 
of scripture, *' turned into blood." The earth, interpos- 
ing with its opaque body^ intercepted the solar rays, and 
cast its own gloomy shadow on the moon. The malig- 
nant influence gained upon her sickening orb ; extinguish- 
ed, more and more, the feeble remainders of light ; till at 
length, like one in a deep swoon, no comeliness was left 
in her countenance ; she was totally overspread with dark- 
ness. — At this juRCture, what a multitude of eyes were 
gazing upon the rueful spectacle ! Even of those eyes 
which disregard the Empress of the Night, or behold her 
%vith indifTerence, when, robed in glory, and riding in her 
triumphal chariot, she shed a softer day through the na- 
tions. But now, under these circumstances of disgrace, 
they watch her motions with the most prying attention. 
In every place, her misfortune is the object of general ob- 
servation ; and the prevailing topic of discourse, in every 
company. 

Is it not thus with regard to persons of eminence, in 
their respective spheres ! Kings, at the head of their sub- 
^^ects : Nobles, surrounded with their dependents ; and 
{after names of so much grandeur, may 1 be allowed to 
add 1) Ministers laboring among their people,* are each 
jn a conspicuous station. Their conduct in its minutest' 
^tep, especially in any miscarriage, will be narrowly sur- 
Teyed, and critically scanned. Can there be a louder call, 
to ponder the paths of their feet, and to be particularly 
jealous over all their ways ? — Those who move in inferi- 
or life, may grossly offend ; and little alarm be given, 
perhaps no notice taken. But it is not ^o be exptcted, 
that the least slip in their carriage, the least flaw in their 
character will be undiscovered. Malice, wirii her eagle- 

^ Ye are the light of tli€ worldi A city that is set on an hill-, 
cannot be hid, 



ON THE NIGHT. %3^ 

eyes, will be sure to discern them ; while Censure, with 
her shrill trumpetj will be as far from concealing them ; 
as Calumny, vvitiiher treacherous whispers, from extenu- 
ating them. A planet may sink below the horizon ; or a 
star, for several montns, withdraw its shinii.g ; and scarce 
one in ten ti^iousand perceive the loss. But, if the moon 
suffers a transient eclipse, almost half the world are spec- 
tator's of her dishonor. 

Very different was the case, when, at this late hour, I 
have taken a soHtary walk on the Western chffs. At th.e 
foot of the steep mouiitain, the sea, all clear and smooth, 
spread itself into an immense plain, and held a watry mir- 
ror to the skies. Infinite heights above, the firmatiient 
stretched in azure expanse, bespangled \\ith unnumbered 
stars, and adorned with the moon, '- vralk-ing in bright- 
ness."* She seemed to contemplate herself, with a pecu- 
liar pleasure ; while the transparent surface both receiv- 
ed, and returned her silvei image. Here, instead of be- 
ing covered with sackcloth, she shone with double lustre; 
multiplied, in proportion to the number of beholders, and 
their various situations. 

Such, methinks, is the effect of an exemplary behav- 
iour, in persons of exalted rank. Their course, as it is no- 
bly distinguished, so it will be happily infii^ential. Oth- 
ers will catch the diffusive ray; aud be ambitious to re- 
semble a pattern, so attracting,^ so commanding. Their 
amiable qualities will not terminate in themselves ; but 
we shall see them reflected from their families, their ac- 
quahitance, their retainers. Just as we m.ay now be- 
hold another moon,t trembling in the stream, glittering in 
the canal, and displaying its lovely impress on every col- 
lection of waters. 

The moon, philosophy says, is a sort of sovereign over 
the great deep. Her orb, like a royal sceptre, sways the 
ocean, and actuates the fluid realms. It swells the tides, 
and perpetuates the reciprocal returns of ebb and flow. 
By which means, the liquid element purges off its filth, 
and is preserved from being putrefied itself, and from poi- 
soning the world, — Is the moon thus operative on the 
vast abyss ? And shall not the faith of eternal and infinite 

* Job X5xi. 2&. 

i Splendet tremulo sub luiBine pontus.- Firg. 



2o6 CONTEMPLATIONS 

delights to come, be equally efficacious on this soul of 
mine / — Far above her argent fields, are treasures of hap- 
piness, unseen by mortal eye, by mortal ear unheard, and 
unconceived by any human imagination, in that desira- 
ble world, the most distinguished and exalted honors also 
are conferred; in comparison with which, the thrones and 
diadems of earthly monarchs are empty pageants, and 
childish toys. — Yonder arch of sapphire, with all its span- 
gles of gold, is but the floor of those divine abodes. What 
then are the apartments ; what is the palace ? How bright 
with gloiies ; how rich with biiss ? 

O ! ye mansions of blessedness ; ye beauties of my Fa- 
ther's kingdom ; which far outshine these lamps o|the 
visible heaven ; transmit your sweet and winning invita- 
tions to my heart x\ttract and refine all my affections. 
Withdraw them from stagnating on the sordid shores of 
flesh ; never suffer them to settle upon the impure lees of 
sense; but impress them with emotions of restless desire 
after sublime and celestial joys ; joys, that will proceed, 
still proceed in a copious and everlasting flow , when seas 
shall cease to roll : — Joys, that will charm every faculty 
with unimaginable pleasure ; when the moon, with her 
waxing splendors, shall cheer our slight no more. 

Enough for the present evening. My thoughts have 
been sufficiently exercised, and my steps begin to be at- 
tended with weariness. Let me obey the admonition of 
Nature ) and give respite to my meditations, slumber to 
my eyes.— But stay. — Shall I retire to the bed of sleep, 
Avith as much inattention, as the brutes to their sordid lain' 
Are no acknowledgments due to that Divine Being, who 
is the support of my hfe, and the length of rny days ? Have 
I no need of his protecting care ? no more occasion for 
the blessings of his goodness? Lepidus, perhaps, m?.y 
laugh at the bended knee; and have a thousand darts of 
raillery ready to discharge on the practice of devotion. 
The wits, I know, are unmercifully severe on what they - 
call the drudgery of prayer, and the fantastical rant of 
praise These they leave to the illiterate laborer, and 
the mean mechanics ; or treat them, with a coiitemptuous 
sneer, as the parson's icrnoble-^trtde. 

Is it then an iv;Stance of superstitious blindness, to dis- 
tinguish ; or of whimsical zral, to celebrate, the most su- 
per-eminent excellency and merit ? Is it an ungraceful, 



ON THE NIGHT. 2(^7 

business, or does it argue a grovelling disposition, to mag- 
nify goodness iransccndently rich and diffusive r — ^Yv^hat 
can be so truly becoming a dependent state^ as to pay our 
adoring homage to the Author of all perfection, and pro- 
fess our devoted allegiance to the Supreme Alnjighty Go- 
vernor of the universe ? — Can anything more significaiit- 
]y bespeak an ingenuous temper, or administer a more real 
satisfaction to its finest feelings, then the exercises of pen- 
itential devotion : by Avhich we give vent to honcbt an- 
guish, or melt into filial sorrow, for our insensibility to 
the best of friends, for our disobedience to the best of par- 
ents ? In a word, can there be a more sublime pleasure, 
than to dwell, in fixed contemplation, on the beauties of 
the eternal mind ; the amiable Oriainal of all that is R'ir, 
grand, and harmonious; the beneficent Giver of all that 
is convenient, comfortable, and useful ? — Can there be a 
more advantageous employ, than to present cur requests 
to the Father of mercies ; opcniog our minds to t';e irra- 
diations of his wisdom, and all tbe faculties of our souls to 
the communications of his grace ? — It is strange, unac- 
countably strange, that the notion of dignity in sentiment, 
and the pursuit of refined enjoyment, should ever be disu- 
nited from devotion : That persons vrho m?};e preten- 
sions to an improved taste, and exalted genius, f hotild neg- 
lect this most ennobling intercourse with the wisest and 
best of beings, the incxhaustibie source of hor or and j( y. 
Shall I be deterred. from approaching this source of tlic 
purest delight ? Deterred from pursuing this highest in.- 
provement of m»y nature 1 Deterred from all by a formi- 
dable barter, or cc:-fated by one irrefragable- smile ?— 
No : Let the moon in her resplendent splu re ; and yon- 
der pole, with all its starry train ; witness, if I be silent e- 
venor morn; if I refrain to kir-dle in my heart, and breathe 
from my lips, the reasonable incense of praise ; praise to 
tliat great and gl onous God \^ho formed the earth, c-nd 
built the skies ! who poured from his hand the watry 
Avorld, and shed the a]-"Snrrounding air abroad. — '^ Thou 
'• also madest the niL ht. Maker omnipotent ! and thou,- 
'' the day ! which I.t!::^''gh less than the least of all thy 
-' mercies, have passe 1 in safety, tranquillity and roi-nfcit. 
■« —when I was lost in the extravagance cf dreams, or 
'-^ lay immersed in the insensibility of sleep, thy hand recov- 
* ered me from the temporary lethargy. Thy hand seta 



258 CON-^MPLATIONS 

*' new, a delicately fine edge on all my blunted senses ; 
"' and strung my sinews with reciuited vigor. When my 
*' thoughts Vv'ere benumbed and stupified. thy quickening 
''' influence roused them into activity ; when they were 
*' disconcerted and wild, thy regulating influence reduced 
^^ them into order : Refitting me at once, to relish the in- 
" nocent entertainments of an animal, and to enjoy the 
" sublime gratifications of a rational capacity. — When 
*' darkness covered the creation, at thy command, the suo 
** arose ; painted the flowers, and distinguished every ob- 
*^' ject : gave light to my feet ; and gave nature, with all 
*' her beautiful scenes, to my eye.— To thee, O thou God 
"' of my strength ! I owe the continuance of my being, 
*^ and the vivacity of my constitution. By thy sacred or- 
" der, without any consciousness of mine, tlic wheels of 
^* life move, and the ciimson fountain plays. Over-ruled 
'* by thy exquisite skill, it transforms itself, by the nicest 
-' operations of an inexplicable kind of chemistry, into a 
'*^ variety of the finest secretions ; which glide into the 
^* muscles, and swell them for action ; or pour themTselves 
^' into the fluids, and repair their incessant decay ; which 
'" cause cheerfulness to sparkle in the eye, and health to 
*' bloom in the cheek. 

*' Disastrous accidents injurious to the peace of my 
*^ mind, or fatal to the welfare of my body, beset my path^. 
*' But ihy faithfulness and truth, like an impenetrable 
^* shield, guarded me all around. Under this divine pro- 
'Uec/donj I v/alked secure, amidst legions of apparent p^- 
'* rils; and passed unhuit, through a far greater iriultipii- 
'' city of unseen evils. Not one of my bones was broken ; 
" not a single shaft grazed upon my ease ; even when the 
^' eye that watched over me, saw, in its wide survey, thou- 
" sands falling beside me, in irrecoverable ruin ; and ten 
'^ thousands deeply v.ounded, on my right hand. — If sick- 
" ness has at any time, saddened my chamber, or pain har- 
'^ rowed my flesh, it was a wholesome discipline, and a 
*' gracious severity. The chastiseuient proved a sovereign 
" medicine, to cure me of an immoderate fondness for thi^ 
'^ imperfect troublesome state ; and to quicken my desires 
" after the unembittered enjoyments of my eternal home. 
" Has not thy munificence, unwearied and unbounded, 
" spread my table ; and furnished it with the finest wheat ; 
-^ replenished it with marrow and fatness ? while temper- 



/ 



I 



ON TftE KIOHT. 2^^ 

*' ance sweetened the bowl ; appetite seasoned the dish ; 
" contentment and gratitude crowned the repast. — Has 
" not thy kindness, O God of the families of Israel ! pre- 
** served my affectionate relations; who study, by their 
*' tender offices, to soften every care, and heighten every 
** joy ? Has not thy kindness given me valuable friends ; 
" whose presence is a cordial, to cheer me in a dejected 
" hour ; and whose conversation mingles improvement 
" with delight ! 

" When sin lay disguised amidst flowery scenes of plea- 
'' sure ; enlightened by thy wisdom, I discerned the latent 
^ mischief; made resolute by thy grace, I shunned the 
'* luscious bane. If, through the impulse of sensuality, or 
" the violence of passion, 1 have been hurried into the 
*' snare, and stung by the serpent, thy faithful admonitions 
'' have recalled the foolish wanderer ; while the blood of 
'^ thy Son has healed his c^eadiy wounds. — Some, no doubt, 
^' have been cut off in the midst of their iniquities ; and 
'• transmitted from the thrillings of polluted joy, to the 
*' agonies of eternal despair. Whereas, I have been dis- 
*' tinguished by long-suffering mercy ; and, instead of lift- 
*' ing up my eyes in torments, to behold a heaven irrecov- 
" erably lost ; I may lift them up under the pleasing? views 
" of being admitted, ere long, into those abodes of endless 
*' felicity. — In the mean time, thou hast vouchsafed me 
*' the revelation of thy will ; the influences of thy Spirit ; 
" and abundance of the most effectual aids, for advancing 
" in knowledge, and growing in godliness ; for becoming 
" more conformable to thy image, and more meet for thy 
" presence ; for tasting the pleasures of religion, and se- 
" curing the riches of eternity. 

" How various is thy beneficence, O thou lover of 
** souls ! It has unsealed a thousand sources of good ; op- 
**ened a thousand avenues of delight; and heaped bles- 
" sings upon me, with a ceaseless liberality. If I should 
" attempt to declare them, they would be more than the 
" starry host> which glitter in this unclouded sky ; more 
^' than the dewy gems, which will adorn the face of the 
'' morning. 

^' And shall I forget the God of my salvation, the Au- 
'^ thor of all my mercies ? Rather let my pulse forget to 
'^ beat ! — Shall I render him no expressions of thankful- 
'ness ? Then might all nature reproach my ingratitude 



240 CONTEMPLATIONS, kc. 

'' Shall I rest satisfied with the bare acknowredgment of 
" my lips ? No : Let my life be vocal, and speak his praise, 
** in that only genuine, that most emphatical language, — 
'^ the language of devout obedience Let the bill be drawn 
"* upon my very heart ; let all my affections acknowledge 
" the draught ; and let the whole tenor «)f my actions, in 
"ti Tie and through eternity, be continually paying the 
" debt, — the ever-pleasing, ever-growing debt of duty, 
" veneration, and love. 

" And can I, O thou Guide of my doings, and Guardi- 
" an of all my interests, — Can I distrust such signal, such 
"experienced goodness? Thou hast been my helper, 
" through all the busy scenes of day : therefore under the 
/'shadow of thy wings will I repose myself, during the 
'^darkness, the dagger, and death-like inactivity of the 
"night. Whatever defilement I have contracted, wash 
** it thoroughly away, in redeemrtig blood ; and let neither 
'' the sinful stain, no- ;:he sinful inclination, accompany me 
" to ray couch ! — ^Then <:haii 1 lay me down in peace, and 
" take my rest ; cheerfaily referring it to thy all- wise de- 
" termii ration, whether 1 shall open my eyes in this world, 
" or awake in tlie unknown regions of another." 



i 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

ON 

THE STARRY-HEAVENS, 



There dwells a noble pathos in the skies, 
Which warms our passions, proselytes our hearts. 
How eloquently shines the glowing pole ! 
With what authority it gives its charge. 
Remonstrating great truths in style sublime ! 

Night-Thoughts, No. IX. 



THIS evening, I exchange the nicest retreats of Art, 
for the noble theatre of Nature. Instead of measuring my 
steps under the covert of an arbor, let me range along the 
summit of this gently-rising hill. There is no need of 
the leafy shade, since the sun has quitted the horizon, and 
withdrawn his scorching beams. But see, how advanta- 
ges and inconveniences are usually linked, and chequer 
our affairs below 1 If the annoying heat ceases, the land- 
scape, and its pleasing scenes, are also removed.— -The 
majestic castle, and the lowly cottage, are vanished togeth- 
er. I have lost the aspiring mountain, and its russet 
brow ; I look round but to no purpose, for the humble 
vale, and its flowery lap. The plains whitened with flocks, 
and the heath yellow with furze, disappear. The advan- 
cing night has wrapt in darkness the lo'^}t:):-extended forest, 
and drawn her mantle over the windings of the silver 
stream. I no longer behold that luxuriant fertility in the 
fields ; that wild magnificence of prospect, and endless va- 
riety of images ; which have so often touched me with 
delight, and struck me with awe, from this commanding 
eminence. 

The loss, however, is scarcely to be regretted ; since it 
is amply compensated by the opening beauties of the sky# 
^ere I enjoy a free view of the whole hemisphere j wit^ 
W 



242 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



out any ol^stacle from below, to confine the exploring 
eye ; or any cloud from above, to overcast the spacious 
concave. It is true, the lively vermillion, whi^h so lately 
streaked the chambers of the West, is all faded. But the 
planets, one after another, light up their lamps ; the stars 
advance in their glittering train ; a thousand and a thous- 
-and luminaries shine forth in successive splendors ; and 
the whole firmament is kindling into the most beautiful 
glow. The blueness of the aether, heightened by the sea- 
son of the year> and still more enlivened by the absence of 
the moon, gives those gems of heaven the strongest lus- 
tre. 

One pleasure more the invading gloom has not been a- 
ble to snatch from my sense. The night rathe f improves^ 
than destroys the fragrance which exhales from the bloom- 
ing beans. With these the sides of this sloping declivity 
are lined ; and with these the balmy zephyrs perfume 
their wings. Does Arabia, from all her spicy groves, 
breathe a more liberal, or a more charming gale of sweets ? 
And, what is a more peculiar recommendation of the ru- 
ral entertainments presented in our happy land, they are 
alloyed by no apprehensions of danger. No poisonous 
serpent lurks under the blossom ; nor any ravenous beast 
lies ready to start from the thicket.; — But I wander from a 
far more exalted subject. My thoughts, like my affec- 
tions, are too easily diverted from the Heavens, and detai- 
ned by inferior objects. Away, my attention from these 
little blandishments of the earth, since all the glories of the 
sky invite thy regard. 

We have taken a turn among the tombs, and viewed 
the solemn memorials of the dead, in order to learn the 
vanity of mortal things, and to break their soft enchant- 
ment. — We have sui^eyed the ornaments of the garden ; 
not that the heart may be planted in the parterre, or take 
root among the flowery race ; but that these delicacies of , 
a day might teach us to aspire after a better p radise, | 
where beauty never fades, and delight is ever in the bloom. 
«— A third time we lighted the candle of meditation, and! 
sought for wisdom, not in the crouded city, or wrangling I 
schools, but in the silent and lonely walks 'f ancient! 
Night*, — Let us once more indulge the contemplative I 
Vein, and raise our speculations to those sublimer works | 

* Referring to the several subjects of the three preceding essay 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 243 

of the great Creator, which ihe regions of the sky contain, 
and chis dusky hour unveils* 

ii we have discerned the touches of his pencil, glowing 
in the colors oi Spring ; ir we have seen a sample of his 
''beneficence exiurjited in the stores of Nature, and a ray of 
his brightness beauirog in the biaze of day ; what an infi- 
nitely licher fieid ior the display of his perfections are the 
Heavens 1 The Heavens, in the most emphatical manner, 
declare the glory of God. The Heavens are nobly elo- 
quent of the Deity, and the most magnificent heralds of 
their Maker's praise. They speak to the whole universe ; 
for there is neither speech so barbarous, buttheir language 
is understood ; nor nation so distant, but their voices are 
heard among themf- — Let me then, in this solemn season, 
formed for thought, and a calm inteixourse with Heaven ; 
let me listen to their silent lectures. Perhaps, I may re- 
ceive such impressive manifestations of '' the Eternal 
Power and Godhead," as may shed religion on my soul, 
while Iwalk the solitary shades ; and may be a tutelary 
friend to my virtue, when the call of business, and the re- 
turn of light, expose me again to the inroads of temp^ 
tation. 

The Israelites, instigated by frenzy rather than devo- 
tion, worshipped the host of Heaven. And the pretenders 
to judicial astrology, talk of 1 know not what mysterious 
efficacy, in the different aspect of the stars, or the various 
conjunction and opposition of the planets. — Let those who 
are unacquainted w^ith the sure word of revelation, give 
air to these sons of delusion, and dealers in deceit. For 
my part, it is a question of indifference to me, whether the 
constellations shone with smiles, or loured in frowns, on 
the hour of my nativity. Let Christ be my guard; and, 
secure in such a protection, I would laugb at their impo- 
tent menaces. Let Christ be my guide ; and I shall scorn 
to ask, as well as despair of receiving, any predictory in- 
formation from such senseless masses.-^ What ! shall 
" the living seek to the dead |i" Can these bodies adver- 

* Night opes tUe noblest scenes, and sheds an awe. 
Which gives rhosf venerable scenes full weight. 
And deep recepiion in th' eaiender'd heart. 

t Psal. xis. 2. t ^sa. viii- 19. 



244 CONTEMPLATIONS' 

tise me of future events, which are URConscibus of their 
own existence ? Shall I have recourse to duil unintelli- 
gent matter, when I may apply to that all-wise Behig ; 
who with one comprehensive glance, distinctly views 
whatever is lodged in immensity, or forming in the womb 
of futurity ? — Never, never will I search for any intima- 
tions of my fate, but often trace my Creator's footsteps, * 
in yonder starry plains. In the former case, they would 
be teachers of lies ; in the latter, they are oracles of truth. 
In this, therefore, this sense only I profess myself the pu- 
pil of the stars. 

The vulgar are apprehensive of nothing more, than a 
multitude of bright spangles dropt over the sethereal blue. 
They have no higher notion of these bright appearances, 
than that they are so many golden studs, with which the 
empyrean arch is decorated — But studious mmds, that 
carry a more accurate and strict enquiry among the celes- 
tial bodies, bring back advices of a most astonishing im- 
port. Let me just recollect the most material of these 
stupendous discoveries, in order to furnish out proper sub- 
jects for contemplation. And let the unlearned remem- 
ber, that the scene I am going to display, is the workman- 
ship of that incomprehensible God, who is " perfect in 
knowledge, and mighty in power ;" whose name, whose 
nature, and all whose op)erations, are great and marvel- 
lous ; who summons into being, with equal ease, a single 

# ** It is most becoming," (says a great author) ** nich imper- 
fect creatures as we are, to conreinplate the works of God ; with 
this design ; that we may discern rhe manifestaticns of wisdom in 
them ; and thereby excite in ourselves tho-e devout affections, and 
that superlative respect, which is the very essence of praise, as it is 
a reasonable and moral service," Abernethy on the Attributes. — 
And indeed, if we are sincerely disposed to employ ourselves in this 
excellent, this delightful duty of praising the infinite Creator ; the 
means, and the motives, are both at hand. His works, in a won- 
derful and instructive variety, presen' themselves, with pregnant 
manifestations of the most transcendent excellencies of their Ma- 
ker. They pour their evidence from all quarters av.d into all the av- 
enues of rhe mind. They invite us, especially in the magnificent 
system of the universe, to contemplate— counsel consummately 
wise, and execution inimitably perfect, — power, to which nothing is 
impossible* and goodness, which ex ter.deth to all, which endur- 
€th for ever — To give, not a full d. splay, but only some sl'ght stric- 
tures of these glorious truths^ is the principal scope of the following 
remarks. 



I 



ON THE STARR Y-HEAVEN^t 24? 

grain, or ten thousand worlds.-— To this if we continually 
advert, the assertions, though they will certainly excite our 
admiration, neea not transcend our belief. 

The earth is, iii fact, a rou:.d body ; however it may 
seem, in some parts, to be sunk into vales, and raised into 
hills :* in other parts, to be spread into a spacious plain, 
extending to the confines of the Heavens, or terminated by 
the waters of the ocean. — We may fancy, that it has deep 
foundations, and rests upon some prodigiously solid basis. 
But it is pendent in the wide transpicuous sether* without 
any visible cause to uphold it from above, or support ii iiooi 
beneath. — It may seem to be sedentary in its attitude, and 
motionless in its situation. But it is continually sailing,* 
through the deptns of the sky ; and, in the space of twelve 
months, finishes the mighty voyage ; which periodical ro- 
tation produces the seasons; and completes the year.— 
As it proceeds in the annual circuit, it spins upon its own 
centre; and turns its, sides alternately to the fountain of 
light. By w^hich means, the day dawns in one hemis- 
phere ; while the night succeeds in the other. Without 
this^ expedient, one part of its regions would, during half 
the great revolution, be scorched with excessive heat, or 
languish under an uninterrupted glare : While the other, 
exposed to the contrary extremes, would be frozen to ice, 
and buried under a long oppression of dismal and des- 
tructive darkness. 

: I cannot forbear taking notice, that, in this compound 
motion of the earth, the one never interferes with the o- 

* A learned writer, I think Dr. Derhara, has somewhere an ob- 
servation to this purpose : that the loftiest summits of hills, and the 
most enormous ridges of mountains* are no real objection to the 
globular or round form oFthe earth. Because, however they may 
render it, to our limited sight, vastly uneven and protuberant : yet 
they bear no more proportion to the entire surface of the terraque- 
ous ball, than a particle of dust casually dropt on the mathemati- 
chn's globe, bears to its whole circumference. Consequently, the 
found figure is no more destroyed in the former case^ than in the 
latter, — On the same principle. I have not thought it necessary, to 
take any notice of the coiiiparatively Sinall difference between the pe- 
lar and equatorial diameter of the earth. 

t With what amazing speed, this vessel (if I may carry on the 
allusion) filled with a multitude of nations, and freighted with all 
their possessions, makes her way through tl« setheres^l spaif . 3ee 
page 118« in Note.* 

W2 



I 



^46 eONTEMPLATIONS 

ther, but both are perfectly compatible. Is it not thui 
•with the precepts of religion, arid the needful affaas of the 
present life ; not excepting even the iunucent gratifica- 
tions of our appetites ? — >Soir.e, 1 believe, are apt to imag- 
ine, that they must renounce society, it they devote them- 
selves to Christ ; and abandon ail the satihfactions of this 
world, if they once become zealous candidates lor the fe- 
licity of another.— But this is a^ery mistaken notion, or 
else a very injurious representation, of the doctrine which 
is according to godliness. It was never intended to drive 
men into deserts ; but to lead them through the peaceful 
and pleasant paths of wisdom, into the blissful regions of 
Jife eternal. It was never intended to strike ofi^ the 
wheels of business, or cut in sunder the sinews of indus- 
try ; but rather, to make men industrious from a princi- 
X)le of conscience, not from the instigations of avarice ; that 
so they may promote their immortal happiness, even 
•while they provide for their temporal maintenance. It 
has no design to extirpate our passions, bat only to re- 
strain their irregularities ; neither would it extinguish 
the delights of sense ; but prevent them from evaporating 
into vanity, and subsiding into gall. — A person nAy be 
cheerful among his friends, and yet joyful in God. He 
may taste the sweets of his earthly estate .; and, at the 
same time, cherish his hopes of a nobler inheritance in 
Heaven. The trader may prosecute the demands of com- 
merce, without neglecting to negotiate the affairs of his 
salvation. The warrior may wear his sword ; may draw, 
in a just cause, that murderous weapon ; yet be a good 
soldier of Jesus Christ, and obtain the crown that fadeth 
jiot away. The parent may lay up a competent portion 
for his children, and not forfeit his title to the treasures, 
either of grace or of g^o^y — So far is Christianity from 
obstructing any valuable interest, or withholding any real 
pleasure ; that it improv :s the one, and advances the oth- 
er. Just as the diurnal and annual motions are so far 
from clashing, that they entirely accord; and instead of 
being destructive to each o^her, by mutually blending 
their effects, they give proportion and harmony to time, 
fertility, and innumerable benefits to nature. 

To us who dwell on its surface, the earth is by far the 
most extensive orb, that our eyes can any where behold. 
It is also clothed withy^rdurej distinguished by trees. 



ox THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 

and adorned with a variety of beautiful decorations. 
Whereas, to a spectator placed on one of the piaritts, it 
wears an uniibrm aspect ; looks all luminous, and no lar^ 
ger than a spot. To beings who dwell at still greater dis- 
tances, it entirely disappeavi.^ — That which we call alter- 
nately, the morning and the evening star ; as in one part 
of her orbit, she rides foremost in the procession of the 
night ; in the other, ushers m, and anticipates tne dawn ; 
is a planetary world. Which, with the four otheis. that 
so wonderfully vary their mystic dance, are in themselves 
dark bodies, and shine only by reflection ; have ncids, and 
seas, and skies of their own : are furnished wuh ail ac- 
commodations for animal subsistence, and are supposed to 
be the abodes of intellectual life. Ail which, together 
^vith this our earthly habitation, are dependent on that 
grand dispenser of divine munificence, the sun; receive 
their light from the distribution of his rays, and derive 
their comforts from his benign agency. 

The sun, which seems to perform its daily stages 
through the sky, is, in this respect,* fixed and immovea- 
ble. It is the great axle of Heaven, about which the 
globe w^. inhabit, and other more spacious orbs, wheel 
their stated courses. — The sun, though seemingly small- 
er than the dial which it illuminates, is abundaiitly largerf ^ 
than this whole earth; on v>'bich so many lofty mountains 
rise, and such vast oceans roll. A line, exttndiiig from 
side to side, through the centre of that respiendant orb, 
would measure more than eight hundred thousand miles : 
a girdle, formed to go round its circumference, would re- 
quire a length of miiliofis : were its solid contents to be es- 
timated, the account would overwhelm our understanding, 
and be almost beyond the power of language to express.^ 

* I ssy, in this respect; that I may not seem to forget, or ex- 
clude the revolution of the sun round itsown axle. 

t A hundred thousand times, according to the lowest reckon- 
ir.g. Sir Isaac Newton computes ^he sun^to be 9C;0»000 times big- 
ger than the earth. Religious Pbilowph. page 749- 

iMr. Derham, afrer having calculated the dimensions of the " 
planets; adds, •* Amazing as these ma^.^es are, ihey are all far out- 
done by that stupendous glebe of lighi, the sun ; vvhich^ as it is 
the fountain of light and heut to all the planets about it so doth it 
far surpass them all in its bulk : its apparent diameter being com=> 



-248 CONTEMPLATIONS 

— ^Are we startled at these reports of philosophy ? Are 
we reaay to dy out, in a traik;port of surprise, How migh- 
ty is the Bel g, who kiiiditd such a proaigious fire ; and 
ke. ps alive i;oai age to age, such an enormous mass of 
flamt I — Let us attend our philosophic guides, and we 
shall bt bivjught acquainted with speculations more enlar- 
ged and moie amazing. 

This sun, with all attendant planet^, is but a very little 
part 01 the grand macliine of tne universe. Every star, 
though, in appearance, no bigger than the diamond that 
glitters upon a lady's ring, is really a vast globe, like the 
sun in size, and in glory, no less spacioas, no less lumin- 
ous, than the radiant source of our day. So that every 
star, is not barely a world, but the centre of a magnificent 
system ; has a retinue of worlds, irradiated by its beams, 
and revolving round its attractive influence. Ail which 
are lost to cur sight, in unmeasurable wilds of aether. — 
That the stars appear like so many diminutive, and scarce 
distiiiguishable points, is owing to their immense and in- 
conceivable distance. Immense and inconceivable indeed 
it is; since a ball, shot from a loaded cannon, and flying, 
with unabated rapidity, must travel, at this impetuous rate, 
almost seven hundred thousand years, * before it could 
reach the nearest of those twinkling luminaries. 

Can any thing be more wonderful than these observa- 
tions / Yes : there are truths far more stupendous; there 
are scenes far more extensive. As there is no end of the 
Almighty Maker^s greatness ; so no imagination can set 
limits to his creating hand. — Could you soar beyond the 
moon, and pass through all the planetary choir ; could you 
wing your way to the highest apparent star, and take yoiar 
stand on one of the loftiest pinnacles of Heaven ; you 
would, there, see other skies expanded ; another sun, 
distributing his inexhaustible beams by day ; other stars 
that gild the horrors of the alternate night ; and other,! 

puted at 822»148 English nnles, its ambit at l?,582,8r3 miles, and 
its solid contents at 290,971,000,000,000,000/' 

Astro. TheoL book i. chap: 2» 

* See Religious Philosopher, page 319 » 

t See Astro. Theology, book ii. chap 2. — Where the author, ha- 
vjng assigned various rea^^ons to support this theory of our modern 
astronomers, adds, — »' Beside the fore-mentioHed strong probabilt- 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 249 

perhaps nobler systems, establistied, in unkno\vn profu- 
sion, through the boundless dimensions of space. — Nor 
does the dominion of the universal Sovereign terminate 
there. Even at the end of this vast tour, you woula find 
yourself advanced no farther than the suburbs of creation : 
arrived only at the frontiers of the great Jehovah's king- 
dom.* 

And do they tell me, that the sun, the moon, and all the 
planets, are but a little pai t of his works ? " How great 
then are his signs ! and how might)' are his wonders !*'t 
— And if so, what is the Creator himself ! How far exalt- 
ed above all praise ! who is so high, that he looks down 
on the highest of these dazzling spheres, and sees even 
the summit of Creation in a vale : so great, that this pro- 
digious extent of space is but a point in his presence ; and 
all this confluence of worlds, as the lightest atom, that 
fluctuates in air, and sports in the meridian ray 4 

ties, vve have this faiiher recommendation of such an account of 
the universe, that it is far more magnificent^ and worihy of the 
infinite Creator, than any other of the narrower schemes." 

* Job, after a most beauiifjl dissertation on the mighty works of 
Gcd, as they are d.stnbuted through unnersal nature, from the 
heights of heaven, lothe very depths of hell, closes the magnificent 
account with this acknowledgiieut, "Lo! the^e are pans of his 
ways." Or; as the original word more literally signifies, and may, I 
think, be more elegantly rendered, These are only the skirts, the ve- 
ry outermost borders of his works. No m^ie than a sm.all preface 
to the immense volume of the creation — Froni ihe Keb^'ew — Ex- 
treTiiitates , 1 cannot forbear thinking on the ex^ireme and very g,t- 
tenuated fibres of the root, when compared with he wViole substance 
of the trunk : or on the e\quisitely snrall size of the capillary ves- 
sels, when compared with the whole structure of the body. Job 
xxvi. 14. 

t Dan> iv. 3. 

t This puts me in mind of a very fine remark on a scriptural 
beauty, and a solid ccnection of the common translaticn. made by 
that learned, sagscious, and devout expositor, Vitrirga.— lia. m jo. 
we find it wruien of the Supreme Being that '' he taketn up a-ie 
isles as a very little ihing."— Which, cur critic cbferves, is nesther 
artswerable to the import of the orig-n^i, ncr consonant to ihe biruc 
tare of the discourse- The prophet had no mcention to inform 
mankind, what the Almighty could do with regard to the jsU ids, 
if he pleased to exert uncontrollable power His design was to 
^ew, how insignificant, w rather what mere nothings they aie, m 



250 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



Thcu most subliitie and incomprehensibly glorious 
God, how am I over'\v helmed with awe 1 how su.ik iiaa 
the Jo west prostration of mind ! when I consider thy ** ex- 
cellent greatness/' and my own utter insignificancy 1 — 
And have I, excessively mean as I am, have 1 eniertained 
any conceited apprehensions of myself ; Have I felt me 
least elatement ot thought, in the presence of so majestic 
and adorable a Being How should this wound me with 
sorrow, and cover me Vritn confusion 1 — () my God, was I 
possessed of all the high perfections, which accomplish 
and adorn the angels of light ; amidst all these noble en- 
dowments, I would fail dovvn in the deepest abasement at 
thy feet. Lost in the infinitely superior blaze of thy un- 
created glories, I would confess myself to be nothing ; to 
be less than nothing, and va ity. — How much more 
ought 1 to m.aintain the most unfeigned humiliation, be- 
fore thy divine majesty ; who am not only dust arid ashes, 
but a compound of ignorance, im- perfection, and deprav- 
ity ! 

While beholding this vast expanse, I learn my own ex- 
treme m.eanness, I would also discover the abject little- 
ness of all terrestrial things. — What is the earth, with all 
her ostentatious scenes, compared with this astonishingly 
grand furniture cf the skies ? What, but a dim speck, 
hardly perceivable in the map of the universe ? It is ob- 
served by a very iudicious writer,* That if the sun him.- 
self which enlightens this part of the creation^ was extin- 
guished : and all th^ 
move about hiai. ',ve 
missed, by an eye tb 
nature, any more thar 
The bulk of which 



host of planetary worlds, which 

:ihted ; they would not be 

ake in the whole compass of 

of sand upon the sea-shore. 

iiist, and the space which 



his e^'eein, sr d b^T :^ h's :y r:ecy. — The islands, says^ he, though 
so spL\ciaa>, ?.~ 'o ;r-c -c z-r. tur the ereciion of kingdofKis, ai^d ihe 
abcde cf raib: 5 : :: :r C : r 3s to withstand, for inzivf 

rhous5.nds of > e . £ :.:r.; ^ -rated assa'ilis ofihewhcte 

vvatry world j are yet, D-rore me aa^red Jehovah, srnaii as the rui- 
nuiesi grahi, Avhich tlie e) e can £carce discern ; hghi .as the fea:he.-. 
ed mote, which the lea- 1 b-eath hurries away hke a rernpest — in- 
suix ?unt lit leve q-Jid. quod avoiat. The det-p rooted inlands, areas 
the vcla-ile atom, which, bv the gentles 
waUed to and fro in pejpetu&hagitation. 



• Spect. voh viii. No 565. 



/ 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVFKS. 251 

they occupy, is so exceedingly little in comparison of the 
whole, that their loss would scarce leave a blank in the 
immensity of Gocl^ works. — If then, not our globe only, 
but this whole system, be so very diminutive ; what is a 
kingdom or a country ? What are a few lordships, or the 
so much admired patrimonies of those who are styled 
wealthy * When 1 measure ihem with my own little pit- 
tance, they swell into proud and bloated dimensions. But 
when 1 take the universe for my standard, how scanty is 
their size, how contemptible their figure ! They skrink 
into pompous nothings.! 

When the keen eyed eagle soars above all the feathered 
race, and leaves their very sight below ; when she wings 
her way, with direct ascent, up the steep of Heaven ; and 
steadily gazing on the meridian sun, accounts its beaming 
splendors all her own : does she then regard, with any so- 
licitude, the mote that is flying in the air, or the dust 
which she she ok from her feet ? And shall this eternal 
mind, which is capable of contemplating its Creator's glo- 
ry ; which is intended to enjoy the visions of his counte- 
nance ; shall this eternal mind, endowed with such great 
capacities, and made for such exalted ends, be so ignobly 
ambitious, as to sigh for the tinsels of state ; or so poorly 
covetous, as to grasp after ample territories on a needle's 
point ? — No : under the influence of such considerations, 
I feel my sentiments expand, and my wishes acquire a 
turn of sublimity. My throbbing desires after worldly 
grandeur die away ; and 1 find miyself, if not possessed of 
power, yet superior to its charms. — Too long, must I own, 
have my affectic ns been pinioned by vanity, and immured 
in this earthly clod. But these thoughts break the shack- 
les I These objecisopen the door of liberty. My soul, fir- 
ed by such noble prospects., weighs anchor from this little 

* Juvat inter sidera vagantem divitum pavimentaridere, et totam 
cum auro suo lerram— 6'e«. 

t Terrellae grandia inania.-'— 7f^<iff*5 Hot Lyr, 

t The soul of man was made to walk the skies, 
Delightful outlet of her prison here ! 
There disincumber'd from her chains, the ties 
Of toys terrestrial, she can rove at larger- 
There freely can respire, dilate extend, 
In full proportion let loose all her pow'rs. 

Nigk' noughts f No. rX- 



252 CONTEMPLATIONS 

nook ; and coasts no longer abouc its contracted shores ; 
dotes no longer on its painted shells. The i nun entity of 
things is her range, and an infinity oi bliss is her aim. 

Behold this immense expanse, and admire the conde- 
scension of thy God. — In this manner, an inspired and 
princely astronomer improved his survey of the no* turnal 
Heavens. " When I consider thy Heavens, even the 
works of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou 
hast ordained ;" I am smitten with wonder at thy glory, 
and cry out in a transpon of gratitude, " Lord, what is 
'^ man, that thou art mindful of him ? Or the son of man 
" that thou visitest him ?"* " How amazing, how charm- 
/^ ing, 3s that Divine benignity, which is pleased to bow 
" down its sacred regards to so foolish and worthless a 
•' creature ! yea, disdains not, from the height of infinite 
" exaltation, to extend its kind providential care to our 
*' most minute concerns ! — This is amazing. But that 
^^ the everlasting Sovereign should give his Son, to be 
*' made flesh, and become our Saviour! shall 1 call it a 
" miracle of condescending goodness ? Rather, what are 
'^ all miracles, what are all mysteries, to this ineffable 

" gift r 

Had the brightest archangel been commissioned to 
come down, with the olive-branch of peace in his hand, 
signifying his eternal Maker's readiness to be reconciled ; 
on our bended knees, with tears of joy, and a torrent of 
thankfulness, we ought to have received the transporting 
news. But when, instead of such an angelic envoy, he 
sends his only-begotten Son, his Son beyond all thought 
illustrious, to make us the gracious overture : — sends 
him. from the " habitation of his holiness and glory," t© 
put on the infirmities of mortality, and dwell in a taberna- 
cle of clay : — ^sends him, not barely to make us a transient 
visit, but to abide many years in our inferior and misera- 
ble world : — Sends him, not to exercise dominion over 
monarchs, but to wear out his life in the ignoble form of a 
servant; and, at last, to make his exit under the iniamous 
character of a malefactor I Was ever love like this ? Did 
ever grace stoop so low.t-»-Should the sun be shorn of all 

irpsal. viii. 3, 4. 

t This reminds me of a very noble piece of sacred oratory, 
where, in a fine series of the most beautiful gradations, the apostle 



OS THE STAKRY-HEAVENS. 253 

his radiant honors, and degraded into a clod of the rallies; 
should all the dignitaries of Heaven be deposed fronj their 
thrones, and degenerate into insects of a day; great great 
wcM^ld be the abasement. But nothing to thine, thou 
Prince of Peace ; when, for us men, and for our salvation, 
thou didst not abhor the coarse accommodations of the 
manger ; thou didst not decline even the gloomy horrors 
of the grave. 

It is well the sacred oracles have given this doctrine 
the most explicit confirmation, and e\ idence quite incon- 
testable. Otherwise, a favor so undeserved, so unexpect- 
ed, and rich beyond all imagination, might stagger our be- 
lief — Could he, who hunches all these planetary globes, 
through the illimitable void ; and leads them on, from age* 
to age, in their extensive career ; could He resign his 
hands to be confined by the girding cord, and his back to 
be ploughed by the bloody scourge ? — Could He, who 
crowns all the stars with extinguishable brightness, be 
himself defiled with spitting, and disfigured with the thor- 
ny scar ? It is the greatest of wonders, and yet the surest 
of truths. 

O ! ye mighty orbs, that roll along the spaces of the 
sky ; I wondered; a little wliile ago, at your vast dimen- 

displays the admirably coTide«:a»nding kindnef^s of our Sav'our. — 
He thought jt no robbery, it w a' his ir>d.spU'ab]e right, to be equal 
with the infinite self-existent, iir^mortal God. Yet, in mevcy to sin« 
cers, he emptied himselt of the inconinnunicable honors, and laid a- 
£:de the rcbes of inconr.prehensible glory. — When he entered upon 
his mediatorial state, instead of actmg in the grand capacity of uni- 
versa! Sovereign, he took upon him the formof a seivant : and not 
the form of those nniristerirg spirits, whoie duty is dignity itself; 
who rtie throned, though adorinp^ He took not on ^im the nature 
of angels, but stooped incomparably lower ; assunied a body of ani* 
mated dust, and was made in the likeness of men ; ^hose inferior 
atni depraved creatures. — Astonishing condescension ! but not suf- 
ficient for the ove»-flo\ving riches of the Redeen^r's love For, be- 
ing found in fashion as a man he hurr b'"d hiinself farther still : 
occupied the lowest place, where all was low ai d ignoble. He not 
only submit',ed to the yoke of the law, but also boie rhe infirmi- 
ties, andmirisrered torhe neces^iiies of mortals. He even w-shed 
the feet of others, ard had nn^ where to lay his own head —Yea, 
he carried his menioiioushum^l^a' ion to the very deepest degrees of 
possible cbasement. He-became -bed'en* unto df:ath :— and .^ot to 
a common or natural death but a death more infamous than the 
gibbet ; more torturous than the rack ;— even the accursed de84)j of? 
tke crass. Phil, ii 6,7,8. 
X 



254 eONTEMPLATIONS 

sions, and ample circuits. But now my amazement ceas* 
es ; or ratiier is ebtirely swallowed up, by a much more 
stupendous subject Methinks,your enormous bulk is shri- 
velled to an atom ; your prodigious revolutions are con- 
tracted to a span; while I muse upon the far more eleva- 
ted heights, and unfathomable depths; the infinitely more 
extended lengths, and unlimited breadths of this love of 
God in Jesus Christ.* 

Contemplating this stately expanse, I see a m/irror, 
which represents, in the most awful colors, the heinous- 
ness of human guilt. — Ten thousand volumes, wrote on 
purpose to display the aggravations of my various acts of 
disobedience, could not so effectually convince me of their 
inconceivable enormity, as the consideration of that all- 
glorious person,t who, to make an atonement for ^lem, 
spilt the last drop of his blood. — "I have sinned,'* may 
every child of Adam say ; " and what shall I do unto thee, 
O thou observer of men ?"t Shall I give my fiistborn for 
nay transgressions, the fruit of my body for the sin of my 
soul ? Vain commutation! and such as would be rejected 
by the blessed God, with the utmost abhorrence. — Will 
all the potentates, that sway the sceptre in a thousand 
kingdoms, devote their royal and honored lives, to rescue 
an obnoxious creature from the stroke of vengeance ? A- 
las ! it must cost more, incomparably more, to expiate the 
malignity of sin, and save a guilty wretch from hell — 
Will all the principalities of heaven be content to assume 
my nature, and resign themselves to death for my pardon ?lj 

* Eph. iii. 18, 19. 

•f Quo quisque altius a^cendit in agnitione Christi^ eo prcfoundi- 
su peccati atrocitatem cognoscet. 

\ Job vJi. 20. '^ot preserver :, as it star.ds in our version, but cbser' 
ver qfmen. Wb^ch phrase, as it denotes the exact and incessant 
inspection of the Divine eye ; as it intimates the absolute in)possi- 
bihty, that any tvanf^gression should escape the divine notice, is evi- 
dently rno^t proper, both to assign^the reason, and heighten the em* 
phasis of the context. 

II Milton sets this thought in a very poetical and stiiking light- 
All the sanctities of Heaven stand round the throne of the Supreme 
Majesty. God foresees and foretells the fall of ir.an ; the ruin 
which will unavoidably ensue on his transgression : and the utter 
iin possibility of his being able to extricate himself from the abyss of 
misery, 






ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 255 

Even this would be too mean a satisfaction for inexorable 
. justice, too scanty a reparation of Gjd's injured honor. So 
flagrant is human guilt, that nothing but a victim of infin- 
ite dignity could constitute an adequate propitiation. — He 
\vho said, '^ Let there be light and there was light ;'' Let 
there bea fii-miment, and immediately the blue curtains 
floated in the sky ; He must take flesh ; He must feel the 
fierce torments of crucifixion ; and pour out his soul in 
agonies, if ever such transgressors are pardoned. 
1 How vast is that debt, which all the wealth of both the 
Indies cannot discharge ! How vitiated that habit of body, 
which all the drugs produced by Nature herself, cannot 
rectify 1 But how much more ruined was thy condition, 
O my soul 1 How much more heinous were thy crimes ! 
Since nothing less than the sufferings and death of Messi- 
ah, the Son of God, and radiant image of his glory, could 
effect thy recovery or cancel thy iniquity. — Though, per- 
haps, thou art not sunk so very deep in pollution, as some 
of the most abandoned profligates ; yet remember the in- 
estimable ransom paid to redeem th,ee from everlasting 

He. with his whole posterity, mast die ; 
Die he, or juoiice must ; unless for him 
Some oiher able, and as w.Iling, pay 
The rigid sarisfactidn, death for death. 

After which atTect-.ng representation, intended to raise the most 
lender emotions of p. ty, the follo^ving iitquiry was addressed to allr 
sunounding angels; 

Say, heavn'ly powers, where shall we 5nd such love ? 
Which of you will be mortal to redeem 
Man's mortal cr'^me r and die, the dead to save ? 
He a-k"d • but all the heavenly choir stood mute. 
And silence was- in Heaven. 

There is, to me at least, an inimitable spirit and beauty in the 
last circuaistance. — That such an innumerable multitude of gener* 
ouiand compassionate beings, should be struck dumb with surprise 
and terror, at the very mention of the deadly forfeiture, and ransom 
set! No language is- so eloquent as this s'Jence. Words could not 
possibly have expressed in so emphaijcal a manner, the dreadful 
nature of the ta^k i the absolute inabilitv- of any or all creatures to 
execute it ; the supereminenr and matchless love of the eternal Son, 
in undertaking the tremendous work ; not only without reluctance, 
but unsoughr and unimpioied ; with leadinesSj alacrity, and delight. 
Faradise ia^r, book lil line-209 edit Bentl. 



2'56 CONTEMPLATIONS 

destruction. Remember this ; and '^ never open tliy 
mouth any more''* either to murmur at the Divine chas- 
tisements, or to glory in thy own attainments. Remem- 
ber this ; and even " loath thyself,t for the multitude of 
thy provocations," and thy great baseness. 

Once more : Let me view this beautiful, this magnifi- 
cent expanse ; and conceive some juster apprehensions of 
the unknown richness of my Saviour's atonement — I am 
info! med by a writer who cannot mistake, that the High 
Priest of my profession, who was also the sacrifice of my 
sins, is higher than the Heavens,^ more exalted in dignity, 
more bright vriih glory, than all the heavenly mansions, 
and all their illustrious inhabitants. If my heart was hum- 
bled at the consideration of its excessive guilt, how do all 
my drooping powers, revive at this delightful thought? 
The poor criminal, that seemed to be tottering on the ve- 
ry brink of the infernal pit, is raised, by such a belief, even 
to the portals of parachse. My self-abasement, I trust, 
will always continue ; but my fears, under the influence 
of such a conviction, are quite gone.§ I do not, I cannot, 
doubt the efficacy of this propitiation. While I see a 
glimpse of its matchless excellency, and verily believe 
myself interested in its merits ; I know not what it is to 

* Ezek xvh 63. f Ezek. xxxvi. 31. \ Heb. vii, 26. 

§1 am sorry to find, that sorr^.e of my readers were a little dis- 
gusted at this expression. ^* My fears are quite gone ;'' as think- 
ings it discovered a tir.cture of arrogance in the writer, and terded 
to discourage the weak Christian. But I hope a more mature con- 
side) ation will acquit me from both thesp charges. — For what has 
the author said ? Only that at some peculiarly happy moments, 
when ^he Holy Ghost bears wime^s of Christ in h"s heart, and he 
3S favored with a glimpse of the Redeemer's matchless excellency ; 

that, in these brighier intervals of life, his trembling fears, with 

regard to the decis-ve sentence of the great tribunal, are turned into 
pleasing expectations. And what is there in such a declaration ot-^ 
fensive to ibe strictest modesty, or dispiriting to the weakest believ- 
er ? Ir.stead of creating discouragement, it points out the way to ob- 
tain a settled iranquilljty. Its natural tendency is to engage the se- 
rious mind m a more constant and attentive mitdiiation en the nn- 
known merits of the Divine Mediator. And were we more thor- 
oughly acquainted, more deeply affected with his unutterable digni- 
ty ; I am persuaded; our uneasy apprehensions would proportiona- 
bly* vanish ; our faith be estabhshed, our hopes brightened, an^ 
our joys enlarged. 



ON THE STARRt-HEAVENS. 257 

feel any misgiving suspicions ; but am steadfast in faith, 
ana joyfui liiroagh nope. 

Be my i.iquities like debts of millions of talents, here 
is more than lull payment for all that prcciigious sum. Let 
the enc:niy of mankmd, and accuser of the brethren, load 
me With invectives ; this one piea, A divine Redeemer 
died, most thoroughly quashes every indictment. For, 
though there be much turpitude, and manifold transgres-v 

sions, " there is no condemnation to those that are in 

" Christ Jesus." — Nay, were 1 chargeable with all the vil- 
est deeds, v/hich have been committed in every age of the 
"world, by every nation ot men ; even in this most deplor- 
able case, I need not sink into despair. Even such guilt, 
though grievous beyond all expression, is not to be com- 
pared wiih that abundance of grace and righteousness, 
which dwell in the incarnate Divinity. — How great, how 
transcendently glorious, are the perfections of the adored 
Jehovah ! So great, so superlatively precious, is the ex- 
piation of the dying Jesus. It is impossible for the human 
mind, to exalt this atonement* too highly ; it is impossible 
for the humble penitent, to confide in it too steadily. The 
scriptures, the scriptures of eternal truth, have said it^ (ex- 
ult my soul, in the belief of it !) that the blood on which 
we rely, is God's own blood ;t and therefore all sufficient 
to expiate, omnipotent to save. 

David, that egregious sinner, but more exemplary saint, 
seems to have been well acquainted with this comfortable 
truth. What else can be the import of that very remark- 
able, but most devout declai^ation ? Thou shalt purge me| 

* This doctrine, though rich with consolation to the ruined sin- 
ner ; yet is it not likely to open a door for licentiousness, and em* 
bclden transgressors to prosecute their vices ? — No : It is the most 
powerful RiOtive to that genuine repentance, which flows from an 
unfeigned love of God, and operates in a heariy^ detestation of all 
sin. One who knew the unmeasnrable goodness of the Lord, and 
was no stranger to the sinful pewerseness of our nature, savs, There 
is r«ercy with thee: therefore shall thou be feared, Psal cxxx 4, 
^- Words full to my purpose J which at cnce add the highest au- 
thority to this sentiment and direct our minds to its proper infiu* 
ence, and dueiinprovement, 

t Acts XX. 28. 

t Psal. li. t . Thou shalt purge. I prefer this translation before 
the new cr^e. Because this speaks the language of a more stead- 

X 2 



J 



258 



CONTEMPLATIOJiS 



with hyssop, and I shall be clean : Thou shalt wash me^ 
and I shall be whiter than snow.—" I have been guilty, I 
'* must confess, of the most complicated and shocking 
*^ crimes ; Crimes, inflamed by every aggravating circum- 
^' stance,^ with regard to myself, my neighbour, and my 
^' God. Myself, who have been blessed above men, and 
" the distinguished favourite of Providence ; my neighbor, 
^^ who, in the most dear and tender interests, has been ir- 
"reparably injured; my God, who might justly expect 
'^ the most grateful returns of duty, instead of such enoi- 
'^ mous violations of his law. Yet, all horrid and execra- 
" ble as my offence is, it is nothing to the superabundant 
" merit of that great Redeemer, who was promised from 
*^ the foundiitions of the world ; in whom all my fathers 
*' trusted ; who is the hope of all the ends of the earth. 
" Though my conscience be more loathsome, with adul- 
" terous impurity, than the dunghill: though treachery 
** and murder have rendered it even black as the gloom 
•* of hell ; yet, washed in the fountain opened for sin and for 
'* uncleanness,"* I shall be, — *' I say, not pure only, this 
*' were a disparagement to the efficacy of my Saviour's 
" death ; but I shall be fair as the lily, and white as the 
^ snow. Nay, let me not derogate from the glorious ob- 
" ject of my confidence ; cleansed by this sovereign, sanc- 
" tifying stream, I shall be fairer than the full blown lily, 
*^ whiter than the new-fallen snows." 

Power, saith the scripture, belongeth unto God.f — And 
in, what majestic lines is this attribute of Jqhovah written, 
throughout the whole volume of the creation ! especially, 
through those magnificent pages, unfolded in yonder starry 
regions ; which are therefore styled, by the sweet and se- 
raphic singer of Israel, " the firmament of his power ;"| 
because the grand exploits of Omnipotence are there dis- 
played with the utmost pomp, and recorded in the most 
legible characters. 

Who, that looks \>pward to the midnight-sky ; and, with 
an eye of reason, beholds its rolling wonders ; who can 
forbear inquiring, Of what were those mighty orbs form- 
fast belief, and gives the highest honor to the Divine goodness. 
^Vere the words intended to bea»" no more than the common peti- 
tionary sense and not to^be expressive of a noble plerophory of faith ; 
they would rather have. been imperatives, and not futures. 



"^Zeck xUiilI^* 



t P»al Ixii. 11- 



I P&al. CU h 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS 259 

c*d ? — Amazing to relate ! They were produced withou^ 
materials. They sprang from emptiness itself. The 
stately fabric of universal nature emerged out of nothing. 
Wnat instruments were used by the Supreme Architect, 
to fashion the parts with such exquisite niceness, and give 
so beautiful a polish to the whole ? How was all connect- 
ed into one finely-proportioned, and nobly finished struct- 
ure ? — A bare Fiat accomplished all. — Let them be, said 
God. He added no more ; and immediately the marvel- 
lous edifice arose ; adorned with every beauty ; display- 
ing innumerable perfections ; and declaring amidst enrap- 
tured seraphs, its great Creator's praise. '' By the word 
of the Lord, were the heavens made, and all the host of 
them by the breath of his mouth.''* — What forceful ma- 
chinery fixed some of those ponderous globes on an im- 
moveable basis? What irresistible impulse bowled oth- 
ers through the circuit of the Heavens? What coercive 
energy confined their impetuous courses within limits, 
astonishingly large, yet most minutely true ? — Nothing 
but his sovereign will. For all things were at firs! con- 
stituted, and all to this day abide, '» according to his ordi- 
nance." 

Without any toilsome assidutiy or laborious process, to 
raise — to touch — to speak such a multitude of immense 
bodies into being ; to launch them through the spaces of 
the sky, as an arrow from the hand of a giant ; — to im- 
press on such unwieldy masses, a motion far outstripping 
tiie swiftness of the winded creation;! — and to continue 



't>^ 



* If this thought is admitted a second time, and suitered to enno- 
ble the next paragraph ; it is parti}, because of its unequalled sub- 
limity ; parily, becauseit awakens the most grand idea of creating 
power; andparcly, because the practice of the Psalmist, an author- 
ity too great to be controverted, is my precedent: — Th? beautiful 
stanza quoted from Psal: xxxiii. 6. is a proof, how thoroughly the 
royal poet entered into the Majesty of the Mosaic narration. The 
repetition of the sentiment, ver. 9, intimates how peculiaily he was 
charmed with that noble manner of describing the divine opera- 
tions ; while cheturn of his own composition shews, how perfectly 
he possessed the same elevated way of thinking ; and this, long be- 
fore Longinus wrote the celebrated treatise, which has taught the 
Heathen, as well as the Christian world, to admire the dignity, 
of the Jewish legislator's style. Vid Longin. de subl'mv. sect. IZ. 

t To give one instance of this remark.— The earth, in the dli^f- 
nal revoiution, which it performs on its own axis, whirls about lat 



260 CONrEMPLATIONS 

them in the same rapid whirl, for thousands and thous- 
ands of years ;— what an aiuazuig instance of infinite 
might is this !— Cun any thin;^' be impossiDle to the Lordy 
the Lord God > the Creator and Controller of all tne ends 
of the earth J all the regions of the universe / Rather, is not 
all lliat we count dime a it, perfect ease to that glorious Be- 
ing, who only spake and the world was made I* who on- 
ly gave command, and the stupendous axle was lodged 
fast, the lofty wiieels moved complete '? — What a sure 
defence, O my soul, is this everla-ting strength of thy 
God ! Be this thy continual refuge, in the article of d^- 
ger ; thy never-failing resource, in every time of need. 

What cannot this uncontrollable power of the great Je- 
hovah effect for his people ? Be their miseries ever so 
galling, cannot this God relieve them ? Be their wants ev- 
er so numerous, cannot this God supply them ? Be their 
corruptions within ever so inveterate, or their temptations 
without ever so importunate, cannot this mighty, mighty 
God, subdue the former, and fortify them against the lat- 
ter ! — Should trials, with an incessant vehemence, sift 
thee as Vv^heat ; should tribulation, with a weight of woes, 
grind thee to powder ; should pleasure, with her bewitch- 
ing smiles, solicit thee to delicious ruin ; yet '' hold thee 
fast by God,'' and lay thy help upon him that is omnipo- 
tent.f Thou canst not be involved in such calamitous cir- 

tbe rate of above a ihousahd miles an hour. And as the great or- 
bit which It- describes annually around the sun, is reckoned at five 
hundred and forty millions of miles, it must travel near a m.illion 
and a half each day— -What a force must be requisite, to protrude 
so vast a globe ; and wheel it on, loaded as it were with huge 
mountains, and ponderous rocks, at such a prodigious degree of ra- 
pidity ! it surpasses human conception !— How natural, how perti- 
nent, how almost necessary, after such an observation, is the ac- 
knov/ledgment made by holv? Job, ** I know that thou canst do eve- 
ry thing; and that no thought," no imaginable scheme, «' can be 
withh olden from thee," can lie beyond thy power to execute* Chap. 
?;hi. 2. 

* PsaL xxxiii* 9. 

t It is a most charming de^criptioTi, as welt as a most comforta- 
ble promise which we find in isai. xl. 29. 30, 3K— " He giveth 
power 10 the feeble ; and to them that have no might at all, he not 
only imparteth, but increaseth strengUi ;" maketh it to abound, . 
where it did not so much as exist.— ■ Without this aid of Jehovah 
even the youths amidst the very prime of their vigor and activity 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 261 

ctimstanccs, or exposed to such imminent peril ; but thy 
God, whom thou servest, is able to deliver thee from the 
one, and to su^^port thee undei* the other. To support t 
to deliver ! Let me not dishonor the unliruited greatness 
of his power. He is able to exalt thee, from the deepest 
distress, to the most triumphant joy ; and to make even a 
complication of evils work together for thy everlasting 
good. He is able, not only to accomplish what I have 
been speaking, but '' to do exceeding abundantly above 
all that we can ask or think."* 

shall become langud in their work, and weary in their course. And 
theyoung men • to whose resolucion and abilities nothing seemed to 
be impraci'cable shall not only noi succeed, but utterly fall, and 
miscarry in their various enterprises — Whereas, they that wait up. 
on ihe LokI, and contidein his grace, shall press on, with a generous 
ardour, from one degree of religious nriprovement to anothc"r. In- 
stead of exhausting, they sb.all renew their strength; difficulties 
shall animate, and toil ii.vigorat€ them. Tlvey shall mount up as 
with soaring wings, above all oppDiition : they shall be carr'.cd 
through every discouragement, as eagles cleave the >ielding air. 
They shall run with speed and aiaciiry, the way of God's com- 
mandments, and not be weary : they sliail hold on (progied;entnr, 
carpentiter) with constancy and perseverance, in those peaceful 
paths, and not faint ; but arrive at the end of iheir progress, and re- 
ceive the prize of their high callnig. 

To this most cheeriiis; doctrine, permit me to add its no less 
beautiful and delightful contrast. Eliphaz, speaking of the en- 
einies of the righteous, says, Nihil exeisum factio nobis adver- 
saria. — We should reckon our language acquitted itself tolera- 
bly well, if when depreciating the abilities of an adver>ary, it 
should represent them weak as the scorched thread, feeble as 
the dissolving smoke. But these are cold forms of speech, com- 
pared with the eloti lence of the East. According to the genius 
of the bible,^all the povver that opposes the godly, is a mere noth- 
iag ; or, to speak with a more emphatical air of contempt, a de- 
stroyed, an extirpated nothing. Admire this expression, ye 
that are charmed with daring images, and (what Tuily calls ver- 
bum ardens) a spirited and glowing diction. — Remember this 
declaration, ye that fight the good light of faith. The united 
iorce of all your enepaies, be it ever so formidable to the eye of 
fiesli, is, before your Ahnighty guardian, nihil nihilissimum, not 
only nothmg, but less thaif nothing, and vanity. Job xxii. 20. 

* I should in this place, avoid swelling the notes any farther, 
was it not to take notice of the inimitable passage quoted above, 
and CO be found Eph. iii. 20.— Which if I do not greatly mistake, 
is the most complete representation of Divine power, that it is 



262 GONTEMPLATIONS 

O ! the wretched condition of the wicked, who have 
this Lord of all pov/er for their enenw ! O ! the desper- 
ate madnesti of the ungodly, who provoke the Aimi.^hty to 
jealousy 1 — ^Bc sotted creatures I are you able to contend 
Vf'ithyour Maker, and enter the lists aguinst incensed Oai- 
nipotence ? Can you bear the fierceness oi his wrath, or 
sustain the vengeance of his lifted arn^ ! At his presence, 
though awfully serene, the hills melt like wax, and the 
^^ mountains skip like fli^'hted lambs. '^ At the least inti- 
mation of his displeasure, the fouiidations of nature rock^ 
and the *' pillars of Heaven tremble '' How can a with- 
ered leaf endure, when '^ bis lips are full of indignation,, 
and his tongue as a devouring fire r'^- — ^Or can any thing 
screen a guilty worm, when the great and terrible God 
shall whet his glittering sword, and his hand take hold on 
inexorable judgment ? When that hand, which shoots the 
planets, masses of excessive bulk,* with such surprising 
rapidity, through the sky : that hand, which darts the 
comets to such unmeasurable distances, beyond the orbit 
of our remotest planets^ beyond the pursuit of the strong- 
est eye : when that hand is stretched out to punish, can 
the munition of rocks, the intervention of seas, or even in- 
terposing worlds, divert the blow ? — Consider this, Ambi- 
tion : and bow thy haughty crest. Consider thts, Disc- 
possible for words to frams,— To do all that our tongue can ask, 
is a miracle of might. But we often tMok more than v/e can 
express, and are actuated with '-groanings unutterable." Yet, 
to ansy/er these vast desires, is not beyond the accomplisbm?iit 
of our heavenly Father.— r\ ay, to make his giits and his bles- 
sings coniiiiensurate to the iirgest stretch pi hmviin expecta- 
tions, is a small thing wi: ;i the God of glory. He is able to do 
aboYe all that the most eubirg^d apprehension can imagine ; yea, 
to do abimdantly more, exceeding abandantly mo/e, than the 
mind itself^ in the utmost exertion of all its facolries, is capable 
of wisliiiig, or knows how to conceiye. 

"^ One of the planets (Sainrn) is supposed to be more than 
ninety times as big as the globe on which v/e live. According 
to the same caleuktion, the largestof the planets (Jupiter) is a 
bove 2()0 times vaster, th.a.n this vast collection of spacious for 
ests, towering mountains, extensive continents, and boandless 
oceans.— Such enoriious m?-gnitude ! vringed with such prodi- 
gious speed ! — It raises asiGaishiuent beyond expression. — 
^FiUi God is terrible mijesty ! Job. xxxvii. 22.— Who shall not 
fear thee, O Lord ! andsloriiy thy name ? Rev. xv. 4, 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, 263 

bedience ; and bend thy iron sinew. O ! consider this, 
all ye that forget, or affront, the tremendous Jehovah. He ' 
can, by a single act of his will, lay the universe in utter 
ruin : and can he ^valjt power to bring you, in a moment, 
in the twhjkle of an eye, to the dust of death, or to the 
flames of heii ? He has — i say not, ten thousand light- 
nings, to scorch you to aslies ; ten thousand thunders, to 
crush you into atoms ; but, ^vhat is unspeakably .more 
dreadful. — He has an army of terrors, even in the look of 
his angry countenance. His very frown is worse than de- 
struction. 

I cannot dismiss this subject, without admiring the pa- 
tience of the blessed God ; who, though so strong and 
powerful, yet " is provoked every day." — Surely, ns his 
majesty, so is his mercy ; his pity altogether commensur- 
ate to his power. If 1 vilify but the name of an earthly 
monarch, I lose my liberty, and am confined to the dun- 
geon. If I appear in arms, and draw the sword against 
my national sovereign; rr^y life is forfeited, and my very 
blood will scarce atone for the crime. But thee I have 
dishonored, O ! thou king immortal and invisible ! A- 
gainst thee my breast has fomented secret disaffection ; 
my behaviour has risen up into open rebellion ; and yet 
I am spared, yet I am preserved. Instead of being ban- 
ished from thy presence, I sit at thy table, and am fed 
from thy hand. Instead of pursuing me with thunder- 
bolts of vengeance, thy favors surround me onevery side. 
That arm, that injured arm, which might justly fall, with 
irretrievable ruin, on a traitor's head, is most graciously 
stretched out, to c^ ress him wdth the tenderest endearmerits, 
to cherish him with every instance of parental kindness. — 
O ! thou mightiest, thou best ot beings, how^ am I pained 
at my very soul, for such shameful and ociirais disingenui- 
ty ! Let me always abominate myself, as the basest of 
creatures : but adore that unwearied long suffering of 
thine, which refuses to be irritated ; love that unremitted 
goodness, which no acts of ingratitude could step, or so 
miUch as check, in its graciotis current. O ! let this stub- 
born heart, which duty could not bind, vrhich threaten- 
ings could not awe, be the captive, the willing captive, of 
such triumphant beneficence. 

I have often been struck with wonder at that Almighty 
skill, which weighed the mountains m scales, and the 



264 CONTEMPLATIONS 

hills in a balance ; which proportioned the water in the 
hoiiow of Its hand, and adjusted the dust of the earth* by 
a measure. But how much more marvellous is that mag- 
nificent ceconomy, which poised the stors with inexpressi- 
ble nicety, and meted out the heavens with a span ? where 
all is prodi.^iously vast; immensely various, and yet more 
th?ii mathematkaily exact. Surely the wisdom of God 
manifests itself in the skies, and shines in those lucid orbs ; 
shines on the contemplative mind, with a lustre incompar- 
ably brii^hter than that which their united splendors trans- 
mit to the eye. 

Beb.old yonder countless multitude of globes ; consider 
their amazing magnitude; regard them as the sovereigns 
cf so many systems, each accompatiied with his planetary 
equipage. Upon this supposition, what a multiplicity of 
mighty spheres mnsl be ptipetually running their rounds, 
in the upper regions! Yet none mistake their way, or 
wander from the e:oah though they pass through track- 
less and unbounded fie Ids. None fly off from their or- 
bits, into extravagant excursions; none press in upon 
their centre, with too near an approach. None interfere 
M^th each other in their perennial passage, or intercept 
tne kindly communications of another's influence. t But 

"^ Isa. xi. 12. The dust of thp ear^h. in this sublime script- 
ure^ signifies the dry isind, or sclid part of our globe: which is 
placed in contradirtinrticB to the whole collection of finid mat- 
ter, mentioned m ths preceding clause. — Perhaps, tliis remark- 
able € Impression m^j be intended to intiniate, uot only the ex- 
treme niceness, which sia.ted the dimensions of the world in gen- 
eral, or in the gross ; hut also that par^^icular exactness, with 
which the very sm.allest materials that constiiute its fr?n3e(not 
exeeptins: each individual atom) were calculated and disposed. 
— q. d. It is a small tbinsr to say, no m(jh enorm.ous redundan- 
ces, as unnecessary ridges of mountains, were suffered to sub- 
gist. There was not so much as the lea^t grain of sand super- 
fluous, or a single particle of dust deficient. — As the grand aim 
of thedescriptionr is. to celebrate the consummate wisdom ex- 
emplified in the creation : c*ndito display that perff't propor- 
tion, with which eveiy part r-?j]lfs. coincidfs. and liarmouizes, 
with the whole ; I have taken l*^ave to rlter the word of our 
English translation, con pretend, and mtroduce in its stead, a 
term equally failhful to the Hebrew, and more siffiiiiicative of 
the prophet's precise idea. 

t The interception of light, by means of an eclipse, happens 



ox THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 265 

ail their rotations proceed in eternal harmony ; keeping 
such time, and observing such laws, as are most exquis- 
itely adapted to the perfection of the whole. 

While 1 conteiiiplate this " excellent wisdom, which 
made the Heavens,'* and attunes all their motions, how 
am I abaslied at that mixture of arrogaiice and folly, 
w^iich has, at any time, in-. lined vne to murmur at thy dis- 
pensations, O Loid! Whati^ tois, but a sort of implicit 
treason agaii.st thy supiem?.cy, and a tacit denial of tiiy 
infinite understanding ?• — Hast thou so regularly placed 
such a wonderfiii aiversity of systems, through the spaces 
of the universe ? Di(=st thou, without ar«y p V^ationaiy es- 
says, without any im /ving retouch^^s, speak tneni into 
the most t onsummat'c perfection i — Do>t tiiou contii;ually 
superintend all their circurnv^ nces, v/ith a sagacity ti»at 
never mistakes the iViiranest liitie of propriety ? Ar^d shall 
I be so unji'-'counLaniy stupid, as to question the justness 
of thy discern nneiit, " choosing my inheritance, and fixing 
the bounds of my habitation 1" — Not a single erratum, in 
modelling the structu3*e, determining the distance*, and 
conducting the career of unnumbered worlds ! and shall 
my peevish humor presume to censure thy interposition, 
with regard to the affairs of one inconsiderable creature ; 
whose stature, in such a comparative view, is less than 
a span, and his present duration little more than a moment ? 

O ! thou God, *' in whose hand my breath is, and whose 
are all my ways," let such sentiments as now possess my 
thoughts, be always lively on my heart ! These shall com- 
pose my mind into a cheerful acquiescence, and a thank- 
ful submission ; even when afflictions gall the sense, or 
disappointments break my schemes. Then shall 1, like 

very rarely. And then it is of so short a coni iniiauce, as act 
to be at ali inconvenient. Xay, it is attended with such cir- 
cumstances, as render it rather useful, than prejudicial. 

* The sun in particular (and let this serve as a specunen of that 
most curious exactness, with which the other celestial bodies 
are constituted, and all their cifcurastances regulated), the sun 
is tormed of such determinate maanitude, and placed at such a 
convenient distance,—'^ as not to ani-ov, but only refresh us, 
'• and nourish the ground with its kindly warmth"! If it was 
II larger, it would set the earth on fire ; if smaller, it would leave 
" it frozen. If it was nearer us, we should be scorched to death ; 
*' if farther froin us, we should not be able to live for want of 
'' heat . ' 'Stockhouse's Mistory of the Bible, 



J 



266 CONTEMPLATIONS 

the grateful patriarch,* in all the changes of my condition, 
and even in the depths of distress, erect an altar of ador- 
ing resignation, and inscribe it with the Apostle's motto, 
To God only wise. Then, shouldst thou give me leave to 
be the carver of my own fortunes, 1 would humbly desire 
to relinquish the grant, and re-commit the disposal of my- 
self to thy unerring beneficence. Fully persuaded that 
thy counsels, though contrary to my froward inclinations, 
or even afflictive to my flesh, are incomparably more eli- 
gible, than the blind impulse of my own will, however 
soothing to animal nature. 

On a careless inspection, you perceive uo accuracy, or 
tmifoiTnity, In the position of the heavenly bodies. They 
appear like aiv illustrious chaos ; a promiscuous heap of 
shining globes; neither ranked in order, nor moving by 
line. — But what seems confusion is all regularity. What 
carries a show of negligence, is really the result of the 
most masterly contrivance. You think, perhaps, they 
rove in their aerial flight ; but they rove by the nicest rule, 
and without the least error. Their circuits, though seem» 
ingly devious ; their mazes, thougn intricate to our ap* 
prehensions,* are marked out, not indeed with golden 
compasses, but by the infinitely more exact determina- 
tions of the all-wise Spirit. 

So, what wears the appearance of calamity, in the allot- 
ments appointed for the godly, has really the nature of a 
blessing. It issues froin fatherly love, and will termii:sate 
in the richest good. If Joseph is snatched from the em- 
braces of an indulgent parent, and abandoned to slavery in 
a foreign land ; it is in order to save the holy family from 
perishing by famine ; and to preserve " the seed, in whom 
all the nations of X\\^ earth should be blessed " If he falls 
into the deepest disgrace, it is on purpo-e that he may 
rise to the highest honors. Even the confineipent of the 
prison, by the unsearchable workings of Providence, o- 
pens his w^ay to the right hand of the throne itself — Let 
the most afflicted servant of Jesus wait the final upshot of 
things. He will then discover the apparent expediency of 

* See Gen. xii. 7, 8. 

t — Mazes intricate, 
Eccentric, iatervolvM ; yet regular 
Tfaea most, when most irregular they seem — Milton^ 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 267 

all those tribulations, which now, perhaps, he can hardly 
ad iHit without reluctance, or suffer without some strug- 
gles of dissatisfaction. Then the gushing tear, and the 
heaving sigh, will be turned into tides of gratitude, and 
hymns of holy wonder. 

In the mean time, let no audacious railer presumptuous- 
ly impeach the Divine procedure ; but, adoring where we 
cannot comprehend, let us expect the evolution of the 
mystc-rioQS plan. Then shall every eye perceive, that the 
seeming labyrinths of Providence, were the most direct 
and compendious way, to effect his general purposes of 
grace, and to bring about each one's particular happi- 
ness.* — Then also, shall it be clearly shewn, in the pres- 
ence of appl?Aiding worlds, why Virtue pined in want, 
while Vice rioted in affluence ; why amiable Innocence sq 
often dragged the dungeon chain, while horrid Guilt trail- 
ed the robe of state. — That day of universal audit, that 
day of everlasting retribution, will not only vindicate, but 
magnify, the whole management of Heaven. The au- 
gust sessioiTs shall close with this unanimous, this glori- 
ous ackno\viedi;ment " Though clouds and darkness, 
*' impc^netrable by any human scrutiny, were, sometimes, 
*' round about the Supreme Conductor of things! yet 
'^ righteousness and judgment were the constant habita- 
" tion of his seat ?t the invariable standard of all his ad- 
*' ministrations."— Thus (if I may illustrate the grandest 
truths by inferior occurrences) while we view the arras 
on tie side of least distinction, it is void of any elegant fan- 
cy ; without any nice strokes of Art ; nothing but a con- 
fused jumble of incoherent threads. No sooner is thp 
piece beheld in its proper aspect, but the suspected rude- 
ness vanishes, and the most curious arrangement takes 
place. We are charmed, with designs of the finest taste, 
and figures of the most graceful form. AH is shaped with 
symmetry, all is clad in beauty. 

The goodness of God is most eminently displayed io 

^ — The moral world, 

Which tho' to us it seems embroiPd, moves oa 
111 higher order ; fitted and impelled 
By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all 
111 gen' ral good. Thorns. Wint. I. 586. 

t Psal. xcvii. 2. 



J 



268 CONTEMPLATIONS 

the skies; — Could we take an understanding survey of 
whatrtv;- f. lb. med by the Divine Architect, throughout 
the \vhole extent of naateiial things; our minds would be 
tr nspo.ted with their excellencies, and our tongaies eclio 
b^' k that great eDcoirium> They are "• good, very good,''* 
M(/st beautifult in themselves ; contrived by unerring wis- 
dom, and executed with inimitable skill. Most usefulf 
in their functions; exactly fitting the plares they fill, and 
completely answering the purposes for which they were 
intended. — A -1 the parts of the inanimate creation proclaim, 
both by their intriiisic and relative excellencies, the all dif- 
fusive beneficence of their Maker. 

How much more wonderful are the displays of Divine 
indulgen'^^e, in the worlds of life ! Because dead matter is 
incapable of delii^ht, therefore the glorious Creator has 
raised in!?umerable ranks of perceptive existence-; such 
as are qualified to taste his bounty, ^nd enjoy each a hap- 
piness suited to its peculiar state. With this vievv^, he fur- 
nished the regions of inferior nature, with an order and a 
series of sensitive bein^cS' The waters teem with shoals 
of finny inhabitants. The dry land swarms, with animals 
of ^ery order. The dv.'eliings of the firmament are oc- 
cupied by multitudes of winged people. Not so much as 
u screen leaf, philosophers say, but lodges and accommo- 
dates its puny animalcule tenants.t—And wherefore this 

* Gen. I. 31. 

f t It was nobly said, by a Pr-,s^:<n philosopher, on this occasion ; 
Thaf God, when he ir.ider.-ook the work oF cre:irion, tr3T)cfojnied 
hioi^elf into love — B■^^ he need nor transform him: elf into this arrii- 
ablepnncip'j ; for -• God i^ love;'* as was much more nobly said 
by one, whonr. that philosopher would have termed a Edibaiian. — 
X John IV 8. 

\ A very celebrated poer^ in a beautiful paragraph of hi? snbject 
informs his readers, that all Nature swarms with life. In subter- 
ranean cells, the ear'h heaves wiih vital motion. Even the hard 
, stone, ir. the very inmost recesses of its impenetrable citadel, holds 
multitudes of animated inhabitants The pulp of mellow fruit, and 
all 'he productions of the orchard, feed the invisible nations, Each 
liquid, whether of acid ^asie or milder relish, abounds with various 
foims of sensitive existence. Nor is the pure ^rreaEil, or transpa- 
rent air, wrihout their colonies of unseen people. — In which consti- 
tution of things, we have a wonderful instance, not only of the D";- 



ON THE STARRY-HE AVEN&» 269 

dirersity, this profusion of livii)g creatures, flying the air, 
tread:ag the grotmd, and gliding through the paths of the 
sea : For this most glorious reason : — That the Eternal 
Sovertiign may exercise his superabundant goodness ; that 
his table may be furnished with millions and millions of 
guests : that he may fill, every hour, every moment, their 
mouths with iood, their heaits with gladness. 

But what a small theatre are three or four elements for 
the operations of Jehovah's bounty ! His magnificent lib- 
erality scorns such scanty limits. If you ask, Wherefore 
has he created all worlds, and replenished them with an 
unknown multiplicity of beings, rising, one above another 
in an endless gradation of still richer endowments, and still 
nobler capacities ? The answer is, — For the manifestation 
of his own glory, and especially for the communication of 
his mexhaustible beneficence.* — The great Creator could 
propose no advantage to himself. His bliss is incapable 
of any addition. " Before the mountains were brought 
" forth, or ever the earth and the world were made,'* he was 
supremely happy in his own independent and all-sufficient 
self. His grand design therefore, in erecting so many 
stately fabrics, and peopling them with so many tribes of 

vine goodness to those minute beings, in giving them a capacity for 
aninnal gratifications, but of his tender care for mankind, in making 
them imperceptible to our senses. 

— These, concealed 

By the kind an of forming Heav'n, escape 

The grosser eye of man : For, if the worlds 

In worlds inclos'd should on his senses burst ; 

From cates ambrosial, and rhe nectar*d bowl, 

Ke'd turn abhorrent ; and in dead of night, 

When silence sleeps o'er all, be stunn'd with noise. 

Tbompson's Summer, 

* A sacred writer, considering this delightful subject, and confin- 
ing his observations within the narrow limits of his own country, 
cries out with a mixture of amazement and gratitude How great is 
his goodness, and how great is his beauty ! — Who then can forbear 
being lost in wonder, and transported with delight, when he extends 
his survey to those infinitely more copious communications of Di- 
vine bounty ; which, hii« salutary and refreshing streams, r^n 
through all worlds ; and make, not only the little valleys of a single 
kingdom, but the immensity of creE^io?), laugh^ and ulrjg. Ze^h* 
IX. 17. 

¥ 2 



I 



270 



G ONTEMPL ATIOWS 



inhabitants, was, to transfuse his exuberant kindness, and 
imparl felicity in all its forms. Ten thousand worlds, 
stocked wich ten thousand times ten thousand ranks of sen- 
sitive and intelligent existence, are so many spacious gar- 
dens) which, '.vith rivers of communicated joy, this ever- 
fiowing toutitain waters continually. 

Boundless,* and (which raises our idea of the Divine 
principle, to the -fevy highest degree of perfection) disin- 
terested munificence !* How inexpressibly amiable is the 
blessed G jd, considered in this charming light ! Is it pos- 
sible to conceive any excellence so adorable and lovely, as 
infinite benevolence, guided by unerring wisdom, and ex- 
erting Almighty power, on purpose to make a whole uni- 
verse happy ! — O my soul, what an irresistible attractive 
is here ? What a most worthy object, for thy most fervent 
affection ? Shall now every glittering toy become a rival 
to this transcendently-beneficent Being, and rob him of my 
heart ? — No. Let his all- creating arm teach thee to trust 
in the fulness of his sufficiency : — Let his all-superintend- 
ing eye incline thee to acquiesce in the dispensations of his 
Providence ; — And let his bounty so freely vouchsafed, so 
amply diffused, induce thee to love him, with all the ardour 
of a grateful and admiring soul induce thee to serve him, 
not with a joyless awe, or slavish dread, but with un- 
feigned alacrity, and a delightful complacency. 

If the goodness of God is so admirably seen in the works 
ef Nature, and the favors of Providence ; with whtit a no- 
ble superioritv does it even triumph in the mystery of re- 
demption !t Redemption is the brightest mirror, in which 

• • In this stnse, there is none good, but One, that is God. None 
universally and essentially good None, whose goodness extends 
itself^ in an infinite variefy ot blessing?, to every capable object ; or, 
who always dispenses his favors, tromthe sole principle of free and 
4isinterested benevolence. 

t In this, and in other parts of the Contemplations, the reader 
will observe, that the attributes of the Deity are represented, as 
shining with more di?itinguished lostre in the wonders of redennp- 
tion. than in the ^vorks of creation. If such remarks should seera 
to be unprecedented, or to stand in need of a vindication, permit me 
to subjoin the sentiments of a great Critic, equally versed in both 
tho^e sublime theories. — ** In a perfect oratoi," he says» •• Tuliy re- 
quires some skill in the nature of heavenly bodies, because his mmd 
wJJl became nwre exteasive and wnconftn^d 5 and, when he dcsceBd^ 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 27i 

to contemplate this most lovely attribute of the Deity. 
Other gifts are only as mites from the Divine treasury ; 
but redemption opens, I had almost said exlvausts, all the 
stores of indulgence and grace. Herein, '* God commend- 
•* eth his love :* Not only manifests, but sets it off; as it 
*' were, with every brightand grand embellishment : Man- 
" ifests it in so stupendous a manner, that it is beyond pa- 
*' raliel ? beyond thought ; above all blessing and praise." 
— Was he not thy Son, everlasting God, thy only Son ! 
the Son of thy bosom from eternal ages ; the highest ob- 
ject of thy complacential delight? Was not thy love to 
this adorable Son, incomparably greater, than the tender- 
est affection of any, or the united affections of all, m.ortal 
parents ? Was not the blessed Jesus, more illustrious in 
excellency, than all angels ; more exalted in dignity, than 
all Heavens ? Yet didst thou resign him, for poor niortals ; 
for vile sinners ! — Couldst thou see him descend from his 
royal throne ; and take up his abode in the sordid stable ? 
See him forego the homage of the seraphim ; and stand 
exposed to the reproachful indignities of an insolent rab- 
ble ? See him arraigned at the bar, and sentenced to death ; 
numbered with malefactors, and nailed to the gibbet ; bath- 
ed in his own innocent blood, and poudng out his soul in 
agonies of sorrow ? — Could the Father, the Father him- 
self with unknown philanthropy,! say : " It shall, It shall 
" be so ! My pity to rebellious man pleads and prevails. 
" Awake, therefore, O sword4 edged with Divine wrath ; 
*' awake, and be sheathed in that immaculate breast ; 
" pierce that dearly-beloved heart. I am content, that my 
*^ Son endure the sharpness of death ; rather than siniui 
'^ mortals perish for ever."— Incomprehensible love ! May 

to t/eat of human affairs, he will both think and write in a more ex- 
alted and magnificent manner. For the same reason, that excellent 
mas er would have recommended the study of tho'ie great and glo- 
rious m> steiies, which revelation has di.scove»-ed to us ; to which the 
noblefit part^ of this system of the world, are as much inferior, as 
the creature is less excellent than the Crearoi." 

Spect. vol. VIII. No. 633. 

*Rom.v. 8* 

t Philanthropy, that is, loving-kindness to man. 



272 CONTBMPLA.TIONS 

it henceforward be the fovorite subject of my meditation ; 
more delightful to my musing mind, than applause to the 
ambitious ear! May it be the darimg theme of my dis- 
course ; sweeter to my tongue, than the ch'oppings of the 
honey-comb to my taste ! May it be my choicest comfort, 
through all the changes of life ; and my reviving cordial. 
even in the last exiremities of dissolution itself ! 

A pruphet contemplating, with a distant survey, this un- 
exampled instance of Almighty love, is wrapt into a trans- 
port of devotion. At a loss for proper acknowledgments, 
he calls upon the whole universe to aid his laboring breast, 
and supply his lack of praise. Sing melodiously, ye 
vaulted Heavens ', exult, and even leap for gladness, thou 
cumbrous earth ; ye m.ouAains break your long silence, 
and burst into peals of loudest acclamation ;* for the Lord, 
by th\s precious gift, and this great salvation, hath com- 
forted his people. — A sacred historian hath left it upon 
record, that, at the first exhibition of this ravishing scene, 
there was with the angel who brought the blessed tidings 
a multitude oi the heavenly host, piaising God, and mak- 
ing the concave of the skies resound with their Hallelu- 
jahs. At the dawn of the Sun of Righteousness, when he 
was beginning to rise with healing in his wings, the morn- 
inp:-stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted 
for joy. — -And shall man, whom this gracious dispensation 
principally respects ; shall man who is the centre of all 
these gladdening rays ; shall he have no heart to adore, no 
anthem to celebrate this 

Love without end, and without measure Grace ! 

Milt. 

*Isa. xLix. 13. — I have not adhered to onr common translation, 
b!it endeavored to preserve, somewhat more faithfully the noble pa- 
thos, and illimitable energy, of the sacred original. — The love of 
God, manifested in a Divine ai^d dying Saviour, is a blessing of such 
inconceivable richness, as niust render all acknowledgments flat, 
and all encomiums languid Yet, I think, the most poetical and 
emphatical celebration of that unspeakable instance of goodness, is 
contained in this rapturous exclamation of the prophet. Which 
intiTnates. with a wonderful majesty of sentiment, that even the 
whole compass of the inanimate creation, could it be sensible of the 
benefit, and capable ofdehgkt, wou44 express its gratitude j in al^ 
these demonstrations of the most lively and exvberant joy. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 27S 

How pure is the state of the sky, and how clear its as- 
pect ? clearer than the limpid stream : purer than the 
transparent crystal ; and more curiously fine, than the pol- 
ished mirror. That stately ceiling, fretted with gold, and 
stretched to an extent of many millions of leagues, is not 
/disfigured with a single flaw. That azure tSmopy, em- 
broidered with stars, and spacious enough to fonn a cov- 
ering for unnumbered worlds, is without the least spot or 
wrinkle. — Yet this, even tiiis, will scarce yield us so much 
as a faint represeiitation of the Diviiie pudty. God, is a 
God of matchless and transcendent excellency. His ways 
are uprightness itself His counsels and words are ihe 
very sanctity of wisdom and of truth. The laws which 
he has given to universal Nature are exquisitely con- 
trived, and beyond all possibility of improvement. The 
precepts which he has appointed for the human race, are 
a complete sumimary of all that is honorable in itself, and 
perfective of the rational mind. — Not the lea^t oversight, 
in planning a series of events for all futurity. Not the 
least maladministration, in managing the affairs of every 
age since time began, and of every ntition under the whole 
Heavens. — Pardon these disparaging expressions. A neg- 
adve perfection. is far, far beneath thy dignity, O tlicu 
Most Highest !* In all these instances ; in all thy acts, 
and all thy attributes ^ thou art not only holy, but glorious 
in holiness." 



' * O thou Most Highest I — This e.^pression cccur?. ir;ore than once 
in the Psalms used by the established church It is. I think, one 
of rhose beauties, v. hich, because often exhibited, generally escapes 
our nutice. It is a superlative formed on a superiative ; and, tho' 
not strictly conforniable to grammatical rules, h r.nbly sup?ri'-r to 
'hem aih-'The iangu-^^ge seems to be sensible of is o vr: citnc e^cy^ 
when the incomprehen?ib1e Jehovah ii sddressed, orce-ebrated Ojj- 
pressed, as it were. v,irh the gloiies of the subject, it labors after a 
:nore emphatkal manner of diction, than the ordinary forms of 
sj>eech aflord..— Iiis if I lighdy judge, one of rho5e daring and hap. 
py peculiarities of a ma^teriy genius, which Mr. pope so firiel; de- 
.scribes; and while he describes, exemplifies: 

Great Wits sometimes may gloriously offend, 
^ And rise to faults true Critics dire not meiid ; 
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, 
And inaich a grace beyond the reach of art 

Essay on Critic U721 



274 



GONTEMPLATIONS 



So inconceivably lioly is the Lord God of hosts, that ht 
sees deiiiement, even in the brightness of the firmament. 
The iiviiig sapphire of the Heavens, before his majesty, 
loses its lustre. Yea, tlie stars (though the most pure and 
resplendent part of the Heavens) are not pure in his sight. 
How nuich less man, who, in his fallen and depraved state, 
is but as a worm, that cra-wls in the corrupted carcass ; 
and the son of n^inn, vvho, by rervson of his manifold actual 
inrpuriiies, is too just;y compeared to an insect, that wallows 
amidst stench and putrefaction r* — Is there not then abun- 
dant cause, for the most irreproachable and eminent 
of mankind to renounce all arrogant pretensions ; to lay 
aside every assun ir.^; air ! to take nothin;:; but shame and 
confusion to tbenis .-ves r— A holy Prophet, and a holy 
Prinze* felt sncli uumbling impressions, from a glimpse 
of the uncreat; d purify. 1 abhor myself in dust and ash- 
es. f was the decliration of the one ; I ara a man of un- 
clean ]ips4 the confusion of the other— Should not this 

St. Paul has a beaiitif.j] passage of ihe like nature ; which our 
translators have verv c^vorerly rendered, less tkan the least of all 
saints.— bee£nh ill 6. Phil. i. 23. 



* Job x>:v, 5 6 1 submit n to the judgment of the learned^ 
w be' her 'his 'S not the true rrean ;ng of ihe text —it may not, per- 
Itap^. rec-mniend itself to the •qi'.eami'^hly-nice Critic ; or lo tho^e 
peibon? who d^eam cf, I know not what, dignity in cur sullen n.^- 
e:ji5. in prefe.-ence toevejy othet inteypretation, 
=::' -corext ; and 15 far, far from being injurious to 
?i ibat apostate race, which is '* ahogeiher become 
nd '■' is an unclean ihing*'— On this supposiiion, there 



ture But 
Jtbie to the 
the cbarac 
abomina'.^^ 
is not oniy 
purity of 



at)parept, ou': a verv 



^-r-a, 



striking coritrast, 
and the Doiluuon of man : The ivaritv 



oet 
of 



^ een the 
the mo&t; 



high God- vvh^ch outshines ibe m-on, and eclipses ihe stars ; th> 
polknion r-f degenerate man, which. eNclusive of a Sav;our, would 
render him as loa hso'iie tot'ne All- seeing eye as the vilest verniin 
are in on-s— Wiihou- assigning this sense to the passage, I cannot 
discen :l,e force of the anti he^ns, nor indeed the pr-^prjety of the 
scr.rnnerit. Worms, in ihct general, give us an idea of n^eani^ebS 
ar;d ;r;urrr;i:y ; not of defilervien: and impurity • unless they ape in- 
sec'-s hatched an^iidst pu:refacMon. and considered in such noisome 
c>cumsiances. — The two words of the original, are evidently used 
in this significa»-ion by Moses and Isaiah : By the former to denote 
the vermine which devoured he putrefied manna ; by the latter, to 
express the reptiles which swarm in the body that sees corruption. — 
£xod XVI, 20. Isa xiv. ll- 



I Job xLii. 6. 



\ Isa, VI 5» 



ON THE STARRY-HE AVKKS. 275 

teach us all to adore the Divine mercies, for that precious 
purifying fountain,* which was foretold fi'om the founda- 
tion of the world, but was opened at that awfrii juncture, 
when knotty whips tore the flesh ; when ragged thorns 
Biangled the temples ; when sharpened nails cut fresh 
sluices for the crinfison current ; when the gash of the 
spear completed the dreadful work, and forthwith flowed 
there, from the wounded heart, blood and water I 

Especially, since God himself saw no blemish in his 
dear Son. He looketh to the moon, ard it shineth not : 
Yet his all-penetrating and jealous eye discerned noth- 
ing amiss, nothing defective, in our glorious Re- 
deemer. Nothing amiss ? He bore this most illustri- 
ous testimony concerning his holy child Jesus : " In him 
*' I am well pleased ; I acquiesce<with entire complacen- 
'^ cy, and with the highest delight^ in his person ; his un- 
*' dertaking ; and the v/hole execution of his office. " — How 
should this thought enliven our hopes, while the other 
mortifies our pride ? Should not our hearts spring within, 
us, and even leap for joy, at the repeated assurance given 
us by revelation that such a divinely-excellent person is 
our Mediator ? What apparent reason has every believer^ 
to adopt the blessed virgin's exclamation ? '' My soul doth 
" magnify the Lord, for his transcendent mercy ; and my 
" spirit rejoices, not in wide extended harvests, waving 
*' over my fertile glebe ;* not in armies vanquished, and 
" leaving the peculiar treasure of nations for my spoil ;* 
^' but in an infinitely richer, nobler blessing, even in God 
" my. Saviour," — That a person so sublime and perfect, 
has vouchsafed to become my Surety ; to give himself for 
my ransom, in the w^urld below ; and act as my Advocate 
in the royal presence above ; yea, to make my recovery 
the reward of his sufft-rings ; my final felicity, the honor 
of his mediatorial kingdom ! 

^ *In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of Da- 
vid, and 10 the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin, and for unclean- 
ness. Zechxiii. 1. 

* * The Inspired penman, from these two occasions of distin- 
guished joy, sets forth the incomparably greater delight which aris- 
es from ihe gift of a Saviour, and the blessing of redemption. Isa» 
IX. ver. 3. compared with ver. 6. 



276 eONTEMPLATlONS 

When an innumerable multitucie* of bodies, many of 
them more than a hundred thousand miles in diameter,! 
and all set in motion ; — when the orbits in which they 
perform treir periodical revolutions, are extenciecl at the 
rate of several hundreds of millions : — when each has a 
distinct and separate sphere for finishing his vast en cuit ; 
'—when no one knows v/hat it is to be cramped ; but each 
most freely expatiates in his unbounded career ; — when 
every one is placed at such an immense rem.ove from t ach 
other, that they appear to their respective inhabitai.tSj on- 
ly as so many spots of light : — How astonishixig- mubt be 
the expanse, which yields room for all those u.ighty glooes 
and their widely diffused operations ! To what prodigious 
lengths did the Almighty Builder stretch* his une, when he 
marked out the stupendous platform 1 — 1 wonder at such 
an immeasurable extent. My very thoughts aie lost in 
this abyss of space. But be it known to mortals, be it nev- 
er forgot by sinnersj that, in all its most surprisii g aiupli- 
tude, it is small, it is scanty, compared with the bounty and 
the mercy of its Maker. 

His bounty is absolutely without limits,^ and witliout 
end. The most lavish generosity cannot exhaust, or even 
diminish, his munificence. O ! all ye tribes of men, or 
rather all ye classes of intelligent creatures, ye are not 
straightened in the liberality of your ever blessed Creator ; 

*Th!S refers, not only to the planets which pass and repass about 
our sun, but also to the other planetary worlds, which arc supposed 
to attend the several fixed atars. 

•j- The diameter of Jupiter is calculated at 130,650 miles, while 
ifs orbit is reckoned to consist of 695,134 000. Which cornpuiation, 
according to tiie nr;axims of astronoQ-^y, and the laws of proportion, 
mav, as is taken for gran ed in the Contemplations, be applied to 
other planets revolving round other suns. 

i By bounty, I mean, not the actual exercise, or the sensible ef- 
fects, of this excellency in the Dei'^y These are and always must 
be ihrough the immense peiiecticn of the attribute, and the necessa- 
ry scantiness of the recipient^ bounded Bu- 1 would be understood, 
as speaking of the Divine power, and the Divine will, to axert Di- 
vine beneficence These can have no real, no imaginable liriits. 
These after a t^rofusion ( f blessings, distributed to unnumbered 
worlds, continued through unnurribered i:ges, iiiust still have more 
to bestow ; fof evtr ha\e more to bestow ; infinitely more to bestow 
than it is possible for creation itself to receive. 



ON THE STARKY-HEAVENS. 277 

be not straitened in your own expectations. ^< Open your 
mouth wide, and he shall fill it/' with copious and contin- 
ual draughts from the cup of joy. Your God, on whoai 
is your whole dependence, is more than able, is more than 
"willmg, to *' supply ail your need, according to his riches 
in glory." — When the Lord Jehovah is the Giver, and his 
grace is the gift,* let your wishes be unbounded, and your 
cravings insatiable. All that created beings can possibly 
covet, is but a very small pittance of that unlu:iown happi- 
ness, which the everlasting Benefactor is ready to bestow. 
Suppose every charitable disposition which warms the 
hearts of the human race, added to those more enlarged 
affections which glow in heavenly bosoms ; what were 
they all, even in their highest exercise, compared with the 
benignity of the divine nature ? — Bless me, then, thou 
eternal Source of Love ; "bless all that reverence thy holy 
name ; according to thy own most profuse goodness, whose 
great prerogative it is to disdain all measuie. O ! bless 
us, in proportion to that grace ; the richness of which (un- 
utterable by the tongues of men, and of angels) was once 
spoken in the groans, and written in the wounds, of thy ex- 
pin ng Son ! 

Spacious indeed are these Heavens ! Where do they 
begin ? where do they end ? what is their extent ? Can an- 
gels answer my question ? have angels travelled the vast 
circuit ? can angels measure the bounds of space ? No ; 
it is boundless, it is unknown, it is amazing all. How 
charming then to reflect, that the mercy of God is " great- 
er than the Heavens ;" is more extensive than the sky ! 
Transporting reflection ! let me indulge thee once tnore.t 

* 2 Cor IX. 8. God is able to make all grace abound towards 
^ou, that ye, having all suffic-ency in ail th-ngsinay abound to every 
good svork — How beautiful and enaphadcal is this description ! in- 
ferior to nothing, bur that ex rent of ability and those riches of liber- 
ality, which it so eloquently celebiates Does it not exhaust all the 
powers of language, while it attempts to give us a specimen of the 
munificence of "^^he Lord ? 

t Once more refers to page 110. vol I of reflection? on a Flower- 
Garden. 'liie fcl'-ow-ng pages = to the 177th exhibit a dlgresbive 
view of theDivme aietcv I thou-ht it proper tO':»pprize rry ♦•ead- 
er of this excursion; though, 1 hope» it will b-? needles-.- ro offer an 
apology for enlarging upon a theme incomparably joyous. Who 



^78 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Let nie think over the delightful displays of this lovely at- 
tribute ; and, while I admire the trophies of forgiving 
goodness, add one to the number.— With what amiable 
and affecting colours, is this represented in the parable of 
the prodigal! What could induce that foolish youth to 
forsake his father's house ? Had he not been tenderly 
cherished by the good parent, and loaded with benefits 
from his indulgent hand ? Were not the restraints of pa- 
rental government an easy yoke ; or rather, a preserva- 
tive from ruin ? Notwithstanding every endearing obliga- 
tion, he revolts from his duty ; and launches into such 
scandalous irregularities, as were dishonorable to his fam- 
ily, and destructive to himself. When necessity, not choice, 
but sharp necessity, drove him to a submissive return ; 
does the injured father stand aloof, or shut his doors? 
Quite the reverse. He espies him, while he is yet a great 
way off ; and, the moment he beholds the profligate youth, 
he has compassion on him. His bowels yearn ; they " sound 
like an harp," touched with notes divinely soft. He nev- 
er once thinks of his ungracious departure, and infamous 
debaucheries. Pity, parental pity, passes an act of obliv- 
ion ; and, in one instant, cancels a series of long-continued 
provocations. — So strong are the workings of fatherly af- 
fection, that he is almost impatient to embrace the naked 
and destitute wretch. The son's pace is slow, He arose, 
and came ; his father's is swift. He sprung forth (aged as 
he was,) and ran. And is there a single frown in his bi'ow, 
or one upbraiding word in his tongue ? — Instead of loath- 
ing the sordid creature, or reproaching him for his odious 
excesses ; he falls on his neck, clasps him in his arms, and! 
hugs him to his bosom. Instead of disowniing the riotous! 
spendthrift, or rejecting him for his undutiful behavior ;| 
he receives and welcomes him with kisses of delight. Hel 
rejoices at his return from extravagance and vice, as hel 
formerly rejoiced on the day of his nativity. — When this! 
companion of harlots opens his mouth, befoi'e he speaks,! 
the father hears. He interrupts him, in the midst of hisi 

can complain of tediousness, while I speak consolation to distvesse 
and ruined creature^. ? [he D-'vine mercy is the sole fountain of alll 
our present and future ble^^singc In proportion to this benigu atJ 
tribute human hopenar'se, and human felicity flows. Who, thereJ 
fore, can be w^eary of viewing, and review .ng> when the lengths ana 
breiidths of forgiving grace are the ravishing prospect ? 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 279 

iiitencled speech. The overflowmgs of his compassionate 
he^rt can brook no delay. He seems to be uneasy himself, 
tiil he has made the afflicted penitent glad, with the assur- 
ance of his acce^^tance, and the choicest of his favors. 
While the poor abashed offender seeks notlung more 
than not to be abhorred., lie is thoroughly reconciled, and 
honored before the whole family. Wnile he requests no 
other indulgence, than only to be treated as the meanest 
servant ; he is clothed with the best robe ; he is feasted 
with the fatted calf ; he is caressed as the dearest of chil- 
dren. — Was there ever so bright and winning a picture of 
the tenderest meixy, most freely vouchsafed, even to the 
most unworthy of creatures ? Yet thus, my soul ; and thus, 
my fellows-sinner; w^ll the Lord God of everLtsting com- 
passions receive us, if, sensible of our misery, and thirst- 
ing for salvation, we turn to him through Jesus Christ. 

Where sin has abounded, says the proclam.ation from 
the court of Heaven, grace doth much more abound. — 
Manasseh was a monster of barbarity ; for he caused his 
own children to pass through the fire, and filled Jerusalem 
^ with innocent blood. Maaasseh was an adept in iniquity ; 
for he not only multiplied, and to an extravagant degree, 
his own sacrilegious im.piety ; but he poisoned the princi- 
ples, and perverted the manners of his subjects, making 
them to do worse than the most detestable of the Heathen 
idolaters.* Yet, through this superabundant grace, he is 
humbled, he is reformed ; and becomes a child of forgiv- 
ing love, an heir of immortal glory. — Behold that bitter 
and bloody persecutor Saul ; when, breathing out threat- 
ningSjt and bent upon slaughter, he worried the lamb, and 

* See 9 Chron.xxxiii, 

t Acts XI . 1. Saul yet breathing out threatningand slaughter*— 
Wiiat a representation is here of a mind rrjad with rage, and aban- 
doned to the fiercest extremes of barbarity ! I scarce know, whether 
1 am moie shocked at the persecutors ravage disposition, or charm- 
ed with the Evangelist's lively description.— =T he haveck he had 
committed, the invofFensive families he had already ruined, v/ere not 
suifieient to assuage his vengeful spirit. They were only a taste; 
which instead of glutting the blood hound, rnad^ him more closely 
pursue the track, and more eagerly pant for destruction* — He is still 
atlilrst for violence and murder. So eager and insatiable is his thirst, 
that he even breathes out thieatning and slaughter. His words are 
spears and arrows, and his tongue a sharp sword. 'Tis as natural 



280 eONTEMPLATIOXS 

put to death the disciples of Jesus. Who, upon the pfin:- 
ciples of human judgment^ would net have pronounced 
him a vessel of wrath, destined to unavoidable damnation ? 
nay, would not have been ready to conclude, that, if there 
were heavier chains, and a deeper dungeon, in the world 
of woe ; they must surely be reserved for such an impla- 
cable enemy of true godliness ? Yet (admire and adore the 
inexhaustible treasures of grace !) this Saul is admitted 
into the goodly fellow^ship of the Prophets ; is numbered 
with the noble army of Martyrs : and makes a distinguish- 
ed figure among the apostles. — The Corinthians were fla- 
gitious, even to a proverb. Some of them wallowed in 
such abominable vices, and habiturited themselves to such 
outrageous acts of injustice, as were a reproach to hum^an 
natures. Yet even these sons of violence, and slaves of 
sensuality, '' were washed ; were sanctified ; were justi- 
fied :"* Washed in the precious blood of a dying Redeem- 
er ; sanctified, by the powerful operations of the blessed 
Spirit; justified, through the infinitely-tender miercies of 
a gracious God. Those who were once the burden of the 
earth, are now the joy of Heaven, and the dehght of An- 
gels. 

There is another instance of scripture, which most loud- 
ly publishes that sweetest of the Divine names, '' The Lord, 
the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, and 
abundant in goodness and truth ; keeping mercy for thou- 
sands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin/'t An 
instance this, which exceeds all the former ; which ex- 
ceeds whatever can be imagined ; which, if I was to for- 
get, the very stones might cry out, and sound it in my ears. 
I^mean the case of those sinners who murdered the prince 
of Peace, and Lord of Glory.—- These men could scarce 
have the shadow of an excuse for their crime ; hardly a 
circumstance to extenuate their guilt. They were well 
acquainted with his exemplary conversation ; they had 
often heard his heavenly doctrines ^ they were almost dai- 

foi-himto rr)er.ace the Christians, as to breath the air — Nav, thev 
bleed every hour, every momeit, in the purposes of his rancorous 
heart. It is only owing to vvavn of pow-er, that every syll&bie.he 
utters, every breath he draws does not deal about deaths, and cause 
some of the hirocent di^c-ples to fall. 

♦I Cor. VI. 9, 10, 11. tl-xcd. xxsiv. 6, 7- 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 281 

ly spectators of his unequalled miracles. They therefore 
had all possible reason to honor him, as the most iliustri- 
ous of Beings ; and to receive his gospel, as the most in- 
cstimubie of blessings. Yet, notwithstanding, all these 
engaging motives to love him, even above their own lives, 
they seize his person ; asperse his character ; drag hmi 
before a Heathen tribunal ; and extort a sentence of death 
against innocence and holiness itself Never was the vil- 
est slave so barbarously executed. The sun was confounded 
at the shocking scene ; and one cannot but wonder, how 
the avenging lightnings could withhold their flaslies. 
The earth trembled at the horrid deed : and wny, why did 
it not cleave asunder, and open a passage, for such blood- 
thirsty miscreants, into the nethermost hell ? shall these 
ever hope to obtain forgiveness from the righteous Judge ? 
Shall not these be consigned over to inexorable wrath, and 
the severest torments 1 — O the miraculous effect of Di- 
vine grace 1 O the triumphant goodness of God our Sa- 
viour I Many, even of these impious wretches, at the de- 
scent of the Holy Ghost, were convinced of their miser- 
able state; were wounded with penitential remorse ; fled 
to the sanctuary of the cross ; had their pardon ratified by 
the baptismal seal ; and, continuing in the Apostle's doc- 
trine, were made partakers of the kingdom of Heaven ; 
where they now shine, as so many everlasting monuments 
of most distinguished mercy ; and receive beatitude past 
utterance, from that very Redeemer, whom once " -with 
wicked hands they crucined and slew.'' 

Well might the Prophet cry out with a pleasing a- 
mazement, '^ Who is a God like unto thee, that pardon- 
eth miquity and passeth by transgression !"* — Let all 
flesh know assuredly ; let all flesh rejoice greatly ; that 
with the Lord there is such mercy, and with his Christ 
such plentiful redemption. — And O I for the voice of an 
archangel, to circulate the glad tidings through the uni- 
verse ; that the American savage, as well as the Euro- 
pean sage, may learn the exceeding riches of grace in 
Christ; through whose infinitely great propitiation, all 
manner of sm, barbarity, and blasphemy, are freely forgi- 
ven unto men. 

What a grand and majestic dome is the sky ! >^her^ 

*Mic. vii.lS. 
Z 2 



282 CONTEMPLATIONS 

are the pillars which support the stately concave ? What 
art, most exactly true, balanced the pressure ? What 
props, of insuperable strength, sustain the weight ? How 
is that irnnreasurable arch uj^^ held, unshaken and unim- 
paired ; while so many generations of busy mortals have 
sunk and disappeared, as bubbles upon the stream ? If 
those stars are of such an amazir.g bulk, how are they al- 
so fastened in their lofty situation ? By what miracle in 
mechanirs, are so many thousands of ponderous orbs kept 
from falling upon our heads ; kept from dashing, both the 
world to pieces, and its inhabitants to death ? Are they 
hung in golden or adamantine chains ? Rest they their e- 
Bormous Irad on rocks of marble, or columns of brass ? 
—No ; they are pendulous iu fluid aether ; yet are more 
immoveably fixed> than if the everlasting mountains lent 
their forests for an axle-tree, or their ridges for a basis. 
The Almighty Architect stretches out the North, and its 
whole starry train, over the empty place. He hangs the 
earth and all the aethereal globes, upon nothing,* Yet 
are their foundations laid so sure, that they can never be 
moved at any time. 

No unfit representation, to the sincere Christian, of his 
final perseverance ^f such as points out the cause which 

^ * Job XXVI. r. 

t With regard to the final perseverance of the true believer, I I 
am sensible, this point is not a little controverted. — The sentiments 
which follow, are my steadfast belief. It is b> no means proper, | 
in a work of this nature, to enter upon a discussion of the subject. 
Neither have 1 room, so much as to hint, what might be urged for | 
its support — Let my Reader observe, that I am tar from deliv- 
ering it, as essential to Christianity, or necessary to salvation. I 
Millions, of the very contrary conviction, are. 1 doubt not, high in I 
the favor of God and a growing meekness for his heavenly king-j 
dom. As I blame none for rejecting J none. 1 hope will be offen-l 
ded with me for espousing ths particular doctrine. To be of dif-l 
ferenr opinions, at lea- r in some inferior instances, seems an una- 
voidable consequence of our present state; where ignorance, inl 



J As the final perseverance of the saints is as much the doct-l 
*ine of^heB^ble as ju-.t acarion by the imputed righteouFoess ofl 
Christ: r«ur author's charity here seema to be culpable , and cer-j 
tainly rhose who impugn any doctrin* ot Christianity, are worth 
«f reproof. 



ON THE starhy-heaven^. 2W 

effects it* and constitutes the pledge which ascertains it.-— 
His nature is all enfeebled. He is not able, of himself, to 
think a ^ood thought. He has no visible safeguard, nor 
any sufficiency of his own. And yet whole legions of for- 
■miaabie enemies are in a confederacy to compass his ruin. 
The world lays unnumbered snares for his feet : The de- 
vil is incessantly urging the sie^^e, by a mullUude of fie- 
ry dans, or wily temptations : The flesh, like a perfidious 
inmate, under color oi fiiendbhip, and a precious pretence 
of pleasure, is always forward to betray his integrity. — . 
But, amidst all these threatening circumstance?^, of person- 
al weakness, and imminent danger, an invisible aid is his 

part, cleaves to the wisest minds ; and prejudice easily besets the 
most impartial judgments i h's may turn to our common advan- 
tage ; and afford room for the displa> and exercise of those heal- 
ing virtues, m»oderation. meeknesb, forbearance Let me oi.ly be 
permitted to ask. whether this tenet doe^ not evidently tend to es- 
tablish the comfort of the Christian, avid to magnify the fidelity of 
God our Saviour ? whether, far from coun;er!ancing sloth, or en- 
couraging remissness, to k«ow that our labor shall not be in vain, 
is not the most prevailing inducement to abound in the work of the 
Lord? 1 Cor. xv, 58. 

Is any one inclined to examine the reasons which made theau- 
thor a proselyte to this persuasion ? He may find them displayed 
in the memorial, delivered by several select and^^minent Di- 
vines of the church of England, at the renowned Synod of D-^rt, 
— (See Acta Synod. Dordrech par. IL p 246. of tl.e Laf.n ed- 
ition, published in a single quarto volume ) — Those who have 
no opportunity of consult iDg that venerable assembly, I v^ould re- 
fer to the works of the nidefatigable and very learned Turretin, or 
lO those of the candd and learned VVitsius. — Turret, torn. il. q. 
XVI. Wits. Oecon. lib. IIL chap, xiri* 

Theiatest and fullest view of the point, which I ever remember 
to have met with, jn any of our English writers, is in the Lime- 
street lectures : which are a defence of several most important doc- 
trines of the gospel, and contained in two octavo volumes : the uni- 
ted labors of nine modern Divines ; most of whom are well known 
to the world by their other evangelical and useful wviiings- In 
those lectures, the final perseverance of the saints is very particrlar- 
ly stated, ar*d, to m.y appjehension at least, most satisfactorily pro- 
ved. The argiiUients usually urged against it, are impartially con- 
sidered ; and I cannot but think (with all due deference to the 
judgment of others) unanswerably confuted. 

And here (nor to sweii thi- note a:'y farther) I shall only just 
hint, that the jndiciou? Hooker (an authority, perhaps, as weighty 
and unexceptionable as any tha-. can well be pioduced) gives a sol- 
emn attestation to this tenet, in ?■. short discourse on the perpetuity 
of faith, subjoined to his Ecclesiastical Polity, ful. edita 



r^^, 



248 CONTEMPLATIONS 

defence. '' I will uphold thee," says the blessed Godj 
" with the right hand of my righteousness."* Comforta- 
ble truth ! th^ arm, which fixes the stars in their order, 
and guides the planets in their course, is stretched out to 
preserve tne hen^s of salvation. — ''My sheep," adds the 
great Redeemer, '^ are mine; and they snail Eever per- 
ish ; neither shall any pluck them out of my hand."t 
What words are these ! and did they come fiom him, 
who hath ail power in Heaven and on earth ! and were 
they spoke to the weakest of the flock, to every unieigiied 
fjliower of the great Shepherd ? Then omnipotence itself 
must be vanquished, before they cafti be destri>yed, ei- 
ther by the seduction of fraud,- or the assaults of violence. 
If you ask, therefore. What security we have of er.dur- 
ing to the end, and continuing faithful unto death ! — The 
very same that establishes the Heavens, and settles the 
ordinances of the universe. Can these be thrown into 
confusion ?t Then may the true believer draw back into 
perdition. Can the sun be dislodged from his sphere, and 
rush lawlessly through the sky ? Then, and then only, 
can the faith of God's elect§ be finally overthrown. — Be 
of good courage then, my soul ; rely on those Divine suc- 
cours, which are so solemnly stipulated, so faithfully pro- 
niised. Though thy grare be languid as the glimmering 
spark ; though the overflowings of corrupticn threaten it 
with total extinction ; yet, since the great Jehovah has un- 
dertaken to cherish the dim ptnnciple, " many waters can- 
not quench it." Nay, though it were feeble as the smok- 
ing ilax,H goodness and faithfulness stand engaged, to 

*Iss. XLI.IO. tJohnx.28 |Jer.xxxi. 35. S6. § Tit. i. 2. 

Tl The rerdertiess and faithfulness of God rshis people, are finely 
pictured by the prophet Isaiah, chap, xiii ver 3. Which passage, 
because of its rich consolation, and uncommon beaiitv, is deservedly 
adopted bj^ St. iVIatthew, and ingrafted into the systenri ofevange- 
hcal truths.— He will not himself bre^k, nor suffer to be broken by 
any other, the bruised reed ; nor e^uench the smoking 2aX. Was 
it possible to have chosen two more delicate, and expiessive repre- 
senratjons? Could any image be more significant of a very infirm 
and enfeebled faith than the fiexiie reed, that bends before every 
wind? v^hich besides its natural v^^eakness. is made abundantly 
ivegker by being bruised, and so is ready to fall in pieces of itself.— 
Or Could any thing, with a more pa*heiical exactness, describe the 
extreme imbecility of that other principle of the Divine life, love ? 
The state of theftax, just beginning to burn, is liable to be put ovx 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS.. 285 

augment the heat; to raise the fire, and feed the flame ; 
till it beam forth a lamp of immortal glory, in the Heav- 
ens. 

As to the faithfulness of a covenanting God, this may 
be emblematically seen in the btabiiity of the heavenly bo- 
dies, and the perpetuity of their motions — Those that are 
fixed or stationary, continue unalteiable in their grand el- 
evations. No injurious shocks, no violence of conflicting 
elements are able to displace those everlasting hiiiges, on 
which dependent worlds revolve. Through the v/hole 
flight of tiixe, they recede not, so much as a hair s breadth, 
from the precise central point of their respective systems, 
while the erratic, or planetary, perform their prodigious 
stages, without any intermission, or the least embarrass- 
ment. How soon, and how easily, is the most finished 
piece of human machinery disconcerted ! But all the ce- 
lestial movements are so nicely adjusted, and their (.pera- 
tions so critically proportioned, and their mutual depen- 
dencies so strongly connected, that they prolong their bene- 
ficial courses throughout ail ages. — While niighly cities 
are overwhelmed with ruin, and their very namt^s lost in 
oblivion ; v/hile vast empires are swept f' om their foun- 
dations, and leave not so much as a shadowy trace of their 
ancient magnificence ; while all terrestrial things arc sub- 
ject to vicissitudes, and fluctuating in uncertaitily : These 
are permanent in their duration ; these are invariable in 
their functions : " not one faiieth." — Who doubts the con- 
stant succession of day and night, or the regular returns of 
Summer and Winter ? And why O 1 v/hy shall we d* ubt 
the veracity of God. or distrust the accomplishment of his 
lioly vvord ? Can the ordinances oi Heaven depart ?— 
Then only can God forget to be gracious or neglect the 
perrbrmanre orr>is promise. — Nay, our Lord gives us yet 
firmer ground of alliance. He affords us a surer bottom 
for our faith, than the fundamental laws of the universe. 

by the lean blast : More fable still is the wick of the lamp, v, hen 
it is no: 3 much a- kindled into a glimmering flarne but only brea- 
thing smose ad uncertan wiiethcr it shall take fire or no— Yet 
true '\'M'A\ and heaverdv |f>vej ihoiigh stibsi&ting amidit such pitia- 
ble niBrniirie-:. vviii nor be abandoned by 'heir greac Author ; bhaii 
Boc be exT' -.gi> shed by any teniptaiion ; but be rri^ivirained^ invjgo- 
ruied, and ipade jinally cr'iU'iiphant. Maith-xii. 20. 



tbb 



OONTEMPLATIONS 



Heaven and earth, he says, shall pass away : but my 
"^vords sliali not, in a single instance, cr in one tittle of their 
import, pass away. No! His sacred W'ord, whatever 
may obstruct it, whoever may oppose it, shall be fulfilled 

to iiic veiT uttermost. 



O 



jowerim woia ! how 



^^'hen this word was issued 



astonishing is its eincacy I 
forth, a thousand woiids e- 



Sriouid the mighty orders he re- 



nicrgcu ont ot notlung. 

plated, atliousaud more would spring into existence. By 
thii vvord. tho vast system of created things, is upheld, in 
coiiStant and in^mutabie perfection, Shculd it give com- 
mand, or cease to exert us energy, the universal frame 
would be dissoh ed. and od Nature revert to her original 
chaos. And thi^ very vo.d is pledged ibr the safety, the 
comibit, ihe happiijess of rhe godly. This inviolable, tkis 
alndglity woid, speaks in sll the premises of the gospel. 
— How stravgely infatuated are our sculs, that we should 
value it so little? What iniidels are v^'e in fatt,-that we 
should depend upon it no ino: e : Did it create whatever 
has a bein^v and shal 



lamuniuerecl worrcis 
shall it not be suiiicle; - \:: \ 
or establish them in u::..l; ■ 
and shall it be a dead IcUer ■ 
if I wish to be heard whei 
is not this privilege most c 
mentj in that welflinow-i te 

in my ncart. and sanciid- mr 
ent ti-ie to this high ^ 
assertive i::terrc::": d: 



:t work faiih in our breasts ? Do 
d:cir support to this word, and 
buoy up cur souls in troubles, 
; is it the life of the universe, 



Hovr' r 



inestimabl 
nmanueTs 



e over tt "cy- 

2Z^ " It 5 . . . u u ^_' 1 V • 

d:i:vdvrv to dwell 

^ave 1 not an appar- 

erred in that sweet 

; d v^:l your hea- 

:askhim?*'t 



vcs tnat are 
.:..:icn ; can I 
than is s:ranted 



xiim that cometn 



— 11 1 earnestly cove: i 
comprised in the pv- ' 
have a iirnier clv^ni :o ;_:. noble pG::ion; 
in that n.o^t iveci-^ns -rripuire 
me. I v.di n. no vi;^ ca-t out V'i — What assurance of 
beiiv^ ivierrsvrd in these unspeakable mercies would I 
desirt • \\^::.t form of conveyance, what deed of settle- 
ment, were it left to my owTi option, should I choose? 
Here isUieword of a King; the King immortal andinvis- 



* Matt. 



VI i 



fLuke >x. IS. 



i John VI sr 



OS THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 287 

ibie ; all whose declarations ai'^e truth itself*.— If a mon- 
arch bestow immunities on a body of men, and confirms 
them by an authentic charter ; no one controverts, no one 
questions, their right to the royal favors. AlJ why 
should we suspect the validity of these glorious grants, 
I which are made by the everlasting Sovereign of N. tare ; 
which he has also ratified by an oath, and sealed w^ith the 
blood of his Son ? — Corporations may be disiranchi^edi 
and charters revoked. Even mountains may be removed, 
and stars drop from their spheres : but a tenure founded 
on the Divine promise, is unalienably secure, is lasth^g as 
eternity itself. 

We have endeavored to spell a syllable of the Eternal 
name, in the ancient manuscript of the sky. We have 
catched a glimpse of the Almighty's glory, from the lus- 
tre of innumerable stars. But would we behold all his 
excellencies portrayed in full perfeciion, and drawn to the 
very life ; let us attentively consider the Redeemer. — I 
observe, there are some parts of the firmament, in which 
the stars seem as it were, to cluster. They are sown 
thicker, they lie closer, than usual ; and strike the eye 
with redoubled splendor. Like the jewels on a crown, 
they mingle their beams, and reflect an increase of bril- 
liancy on each other — Is there not such an assemblage, 
such a constellation of the Divine honors, most amiably 
effulgent in the blessed Jesus ? 

Does not infinite wisdom* shine, vvdth surpassing bright- 
ness in Christ ! To the making of a world, there was no 
obstacle ; but to the saving of man, there seemed to be 
insurmountable bars. If the rebel is suffered to escape, 
M'here is the inflexible justice, which denounces '' death 
as the wages of sin r" If the offender is thoroughly par- 
. doned ; where is the inviolable veracity, which has solemn- 
ly declared, " the soul that sinneth, shall die?'* These 
awful attributes are set in terrible array ; and, like an 
impenetrable battalion, oppose the salvation of apostate 
mankind. Who can sug^^est a m.ethod to absolve the 
traitorous race, yet vindicate the honors of Almighty 



If these fail. 

The piilar'd nrnnament is TOitenriess,- 

Ar.cl earth's base built on stubble. Milt. Cotnus* 

_t Seethe next note. 



588 CONTEMPLATIOflirS 

Sovereignty ! This is an intricacy, which the most exalted 
of finite intelligences are unable to clear. — But behold the 
unsearchable secret revealed ! revealed in the wonderful 
redemption, accomplished by a dying Saviour-1 So plainly 
revealed, that " he who runs may read ;" and even babes 
understand, %yhat minds of the deepest penetration could 
Dot contrive. — The Son ot God, taking our nature, obeys 
the law* and undergoes death, in our stead. By this 
means, the threatened curse is executed in ail its rigor, 
and free grace is exercised in all its riches. Justice main- 
taiijS her rights, and v/ith a steady hand, administers 
impartial vengeance ; while mercy dispenses her par- 
dons, and welcomes the repentant criminal into the ten- 
derest embraces. Hereby the seemingly thwarting attri- 
butes are reconciled. The sinner is saved, not only in full 
consistence with the honor of the Supreme perfections, but 
to the most illustrious manifestations of them all. 

Where does the Divine power* so signally exert itself, 
as in the cross of Christ, and in the conquests of grace ? — 
Our Lord in his lowest state of humiliation, gained a more 
glorious victory, than when through the dividing sea, and 
the waste how^ling wilderness, he " rode upon his cha- 
riots and horses of salvation.'' When his hands were ri- 
veted, with irons, to the bloody tree; he disarmed death 
of its sting, and plucked the prey from the jaws of hell. 
Then, even then, while he was cn?cified in weakness, he 
vanquished the strong man, and subdued our most formi- 
dable enemies. Even then, he spoiled principalities, tri- 
umphed over the powers of darkness, and led captivity cap- 
tive. — Now he is exalted to his heavenly throne, with what 
a prevailing efficacy does his grace go forth *^ conquering, 
and to conquer !" — By this, the slaves of sin are rescued 
from their bondage, and restored to the liberty of right- 
eousness. By this, depraved wretches, whose appetites 
were s«"nsuaU and their dispositions deviasb, are not only 
renewed, but renewed, after the i»nage of God, and made 
partakers af a Divine nc'ture. Millions, nullions of lost 
creatures are snatched, by the interposition of Grace, like 

Christ, in the wisdom of God, and the power of G~d 1 Cor. 
i. 25. — To rheinteni thar now, unto 'he princEpaliiies and po* e<rsfn 
heavenly places, mipjhf be known by he church (by the amazing 
conirivance, <tnd accorr.pl ishn en t of irs redemption) the deep, eK»- 
tensive, and greatly diversified vrisdom of God. Eph, iii. 10- 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENSe 289 

brands from the burning : and translated into everlasting 
mansions, shine brighter than the stars, shine bright as 
the sun, in the kingdom of their Father. 

Would you then see an incomparably more bright dis- 
play of the Divine excellence, than the unspotted firma- 
ment, the spangles of Heaven, or the golden fountain of 
day, exhibited ? contemplate Jesus of Nazareth. He is the 
brightness of his Father's glory, and the express image 
of his person. In his immaculate nature, in his heavenly 
temper,'in his most holy life ; the moral perfections of the 
Deity are represented to the highest advantage.* — Hark ! 
how Mercy with her charm-ng voice, speaks in all he ut- 
ters. See ! how benevolence pours her choicest stores, 
in all he does. Did ever Compassion look so amiably 
soft, as in those pitying tears, which swelled his eyes, and 
trickled down his cheeks, to bedew the rancor of his invet- 
erate enemies ? — Was it possible for Patience to assume 
a form so lovely, as the sweetly winning conduct, which 
bore the contradiction of sinners ; which entreated the ob- 
stinate to be reconciled, besought the guilty not to die ?— 
In other things we may find some scattered rays of Jeho- 
vah's glory ; but in Christ, they are collected and united* 
In Christ they beam forth, with the strongest radiance, 
with the most delightful effulgence. Out of Sion, and in 
Sion's great Redeemer, hath God appeared in perfect 
beauty . 

Search then, my soul^ above all other pursuits, search 
the records of redeeming: love. Let these be the principal 
objectsof thy study. Here employ thyself with the most 
unwearied assiduity. — In these are hid all the treasures 
of wisdom and knowledge.! Such wisdom, as charms and 

* In this sense, that saying of our Lord is enninently true. He 
that hath seen Me , hath seen the Father. John xiv. 9. 

t Colcss. ii 3 —Not a mean degree, but a treasure ; not one 
treasure, bu'^ many ; not many only, but all treasures, of true wis- 
donr), and saving knowledge ; are in Christ a^nd hie glorious go«peL 
— The transcendent excellency of those rre-'sures "^.etrms to be finely 
intimated, in that other expression hid; laid up; with the utmost 
care, aiid the greatest safetv , Not left at all adv<^ntutes, to be 
stumbled upon by every giddy wai>c;erer ; or to fall into the arms of 
the yawning ^^luggard ; but, like jewels of the brighies" lustre, or 
riches ot the highest value, kept in store, to adorn and reward the 
diligent searcher. 

A a 



290 CONTEMPLATIONS 

astonishes the very angels ; engages their closest atten- 
tion, and fills them with the deepest adoration.* Such 
knowledge, as qualifies the possessor, if not for offices of 
dignity on earth, yet for the most honorable advancements 
in the kingdom of heaven. Disunited from which knowl- 
edge, all application is but elaborate impertinence ; and 
all science, no better than pompous ignorance. — These re- 
cords contain the faultless model of duty, and the noblest 
motives to obedience. Nothing so powerful to work a 
lively laith, and a joyful hope, as an attentive considera- 
tion of our Lord's unutterable merits. Nothing so sovereign 
to antidote the pestilential influence of the world, and de- 
liver our affections from a slavery to ignoble objects, as an 
habitual remembrance of his extreme agonies. The gen- 
uine, the ever-fruitful source of all morality, is the un- 
feigned love of Christ ; and the cross, the Cross, is the 
appointed faltar, from which we may fetch a coal4 to en- 
kindle this sacred fire. 

Behold, therefore, the man ; the matchless and stupen^ 
dousman; whose practice was a pattern of the most exal- 
ted virtue, and his person the mirror of every Divine per- 
fection. Examine the memoirs of his heavenly temper, 
and exemplary conversation. Contemplate that choir of 
graces, which were associated in his mind, and shed the 

• This, I bel'eve, is the import of ihe apostle's language, though 
it is not a iiteial translation. 1 Pet. i. 12 — I never had such a 
livC'V appiehen^ion of the beautiful significancy of the last word, as 
when 1 have attended a dissection of scu'e part of the animal bo- 
dy. In order to discern the minutiae cf the admirable franne, the 
latent wonders of art and mechanism, the eye is so sharpened^ and 
its application so intensely bended, as gives a very just experi- 
mental com P'ent on that expressive phrase. — With such ea'^^nest at- 
tention is ihe everlasting gospel contemplated, by the angelic or- 
ders! Hew much more, if it were posrsible, does it deserve the de. 
vout and ic'Cess^nt considertuion of human minds ? since, by them, 
it is not only to be speculated as u bright and ravishing display of 
the Divine atr>''bu:es • but to be applied to their fallen nature, as a 
most benign scheme of recovering grace ; as the sure and only me* 
thod of obtaining life and immortality. 

f And I. 3a>s our Lord, if I be lifted up from earth, and exten- 
ded on the cross, will draw all men unio m.e ; will give such a rich, 
and transcendent display of my love as* shall constitute the u.ost 
powerful and prevailing at^racive of theirs. John xii. 32. 

t Alluding to Isa». vi. 6. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 2^1 

highest lustre on all his actions. Familiarise to thy 
tlioughts his instructive discourses, and enterinto the very- 
spirit of his refined doctrines : Tnat the graces may be 
•transfused into thy breast, and the doctrines transcribed in 
thy Ufe. — Follow him to Calvary's horrid eminence ; to 
Calvary's fatal catastrophe ; where innocence, dignity and 
merit, were made perfect through sufferings : each shin- 
ing, with all possible splendor, through the tragical scene; 
somewhat hke his own radiant bow, then glowing with 
the greatest beauty, when appearing on the darkest cloud. 
—Be thy most constant attention fixed on that lovely and 
sorrowful sr.ectacle. Behold the spotless victim nailed to 
the tree and stabbed to the heart. Hear him pouring out 
prayers for his murderers, before he poured out his soul 
for transgressors. See the wounds that stream with for- 
giveiics, and bleed balm for a distempered world. O I see 
the justice of the Almighty and his goodness ; his mercy 
and his vengeance ; every tremendous and gracious attri- 
bute manifested, manifested with inexpressible glory, in 
that most ignominious, yet grandest of transactions. 

Since God is so inconceivably great, as these his mar- 
vellous works declare ; 

Since the great Sovereign sends ten thousand worldss 
To tell us, he resides above them all, 
In glory's unapproachable recess ;* 

how can we forbear hastening, whh Moses, bowing our» 
selves to the earth, and worshipping ? O ! what an honor- 
able, as well as advantageous employ, is prayer !— Advanta- 

'-^ For this quotation, and several valuable hints, I acknowl- 
edge myself iadebted to those beautiful and sublime poems, t. - 
titled Xight-Tkoughts. — Of which I shall oaly say, that I re- 
ceive fresh pleasure, and richer improvement, from every re- 
newed perusal. And, I think, I shall have reason to bless the 
indulgent Bestower of all wisdom, for those instructive and an- 
imating compositions, even in my last moments. Than which 
nothing can more emphatically speak their superior excellence, 
nor give a more solid satisfaction to their worthy author. — 
Happy should I think myself, if these little sketches of con- 
templative devotion might be honored with the most inferior 
degree of the same success ; might receive a testimony, not 
from the voice of fame, but from the dying lips of some edified 
Christian. 



292 CONTEMPLATIONS 

geoiis. By prayer, we cultivate that improving correspond- 
ence with Jehovah ; we carry on that giaddeningjhitercourse 
with his Spirit, which must begin here, in order to be com- 
pleted in eternity. — Honorable. By prayer we have ac- 
cess to that mighty Potentate, whose sceptre sways uni- 
versal Nature, and whose rich regalia fill the skies v/ith 
lustre. Prayer places us in his presence-chamber ; while 
^^ the blood of sprinkling" procures us a!gracious audience. 
Shall i then blusn to be found prostrate before the throne 
of grace ? Shall I be ashamed to have it known, that I of- 
fer up social supplications in the fan;ily, or am conscien- 
tious in observing my private retircmeiits ? Rather, let 
me glory iw this noblest posture, to fall low on my knees 
before his footstool; and reckon it the highest honor, to 
enjoy communion v/ith his most exalted Majesty. — Incom- 
parabiy more noble, than to sit, in person, on the trium- 
phal chariot ; or to stand, in effigy, amidst the temples of 
worthies. 

Most inestimable, in such a view, is that promise, 
•which often occurs in the prophetic writings and is the 
crowning benefit of the new covenant, I will be thy God.* 
—Will this supremely excellent and Almighty Being 
vouchsafe to be my portion ? to settle upon a poor sinner, 
not the heritage of a country, not the possession of the 
whole earth ; but his own ever-blessed self? May I then, 
through his free condescending grace, and the unknown 
merits of his Son, look upon all these infinitely noble at- 
tributes as my treasure ? May I regard the wisdom, v/hich 
superintends such a multitude of worlds, as my guide; the 
power, which produced, and preserves them in existence, 
as my k<uard ; the goodness, which, by an endless com- 
munication of favors, renders them all so many habitations 
of happiness, as my exceeding great reward ?-What a fund 
of felicity is included in such a blessing ! How often does 
the IsTaelitish Prince exult in the assurance, that this un- 
utterable and bouncilcss good is his own ? Interested in 
this, he bids d^fif^nce to every evil that can be dreaded, 
and rests in certain expectation of every blessing that can 
be desired. The Lord is my light, and my salvation ; 
whom then shall I fear ? The Lord — (with an air of exul- 
tation, he repeats both his afiiance, and his challenge) is 
the strength of my life ; of whom then shall I be afraid !* 

^Heb.viii. 10. f Fsa!. xxvii. 1, 



ON THE STARUY'HSAVENS. 293 

—Nothing so effectual as this appropriating faith, to in- 
spire a dignity of mind, superior to transitory triiies ; or 
to create a cahiiness of temper, unalarnied by vulgar 
fears, unappailed by death itself — The Lord is my shep- 
herd, says the same truly gallant and heroic personage : 
therefore shall I lack nothing.* How is it possible, he 
should suffer want, who has the All-sufficient fulness for 
his supply ? So long as unerring Wisdom is capable of 
contriving tbe means, so long as uncontrollable power is 
able to execute them ; such a one cannot fail of being safe 
and happy, whether he coiitinue amidst the vicissitudes 
of time, or depart into the unchangeable eternity. 

Here, let us stand a moment, and humbly contemplate 
this great God, together with ourselves, in a relative 
view. — If we reflect on the works of material Nature, 
their number incomprehensible, and their extent unmeas- 
urable ; each of them apart, so admirably framed ; the 
connections of the wdiole so exquisitely regulated ; and 
all derived from one and the sar.e glorious agent ;-— .If 
we recollect the far more noble accomplishments of eK^^ 
gant taste, and discerning judgment ; of refined affectioi , i 
and exalted sentiments; which are to be found among tft , ' 
several orders of intelligent existence ; and all of theniYi 
flowing, in rich emanations, from the one sole fountain of 
intellectual light; — If we farther consider this Author of 
material beauty, and moral excellency, as a guardian, a go- 
vernor, and benefactor to all his creatures ; supporting the 
whole system, and protecting each individual, by an ever- 
watchful Providence ; presiding over the minutest affairs 
and causing all events to terminate in the most extensive 
good ; heaping with unremitted liberality, his benefits up- 
on every capable object, and making the circuit of the uni- 
verse a semiiiary of happiness : Is it possible for the hu- 
man heart, ander such captivating views, to be indifferent 
towards this most benign, most bountiful original of being 
and of bliss! Can any be so immersed in stupidity, as to 
say unto the Almighty, — in the language of an irreligious 
temper, and licentious iife^ to say ^' Depart from us ; w« 
implore not thy favor ; nor desire the knowdedge of thy 
ways ?" — Wonder, O Heavens ! be amazed, O Earth ! 
and let the inhabitants of both express their astonishment? 

* Psal. i^^iii, 1. 
A a 2 



294 CONTEMPLATIONS 

at this unparalleled complication of disingenuous, un- 
grateful, destructive perverseness. 

If we consider our fallen and imperfect state ; frail in 
our bodies, enfeebled in our minds, in every part of our 
constitution, and in all the occurrences of life, *^ like a tot- 
tering vy-all, or a broke^i hedge.'* — If we survey our indi- 
gent and infirm state, wv-nout holiness, without spiritual 
strength : our possession of spiritual inconveniences en- 
tirely dependent on God'^ sovereign pleasure; yea, for- 
feited, justly forfeited, w^ith every future hope, by a thous- 
and aggravated iniquities. — If we add the various disasters 
of our conditioi>; agitated as we are by tumultuous pas- 
sions ; oppressed \vith dispiritiug fears ; held in suspense 
' by a variety ot perplexing* cares; liable to pains, and ex- 
posed to troubles ; troubles from every quarter ; troub- 
les of every kind : — ^^Can we, amidst so many wants, under 
such deplorable infit'mities, and subject to such di^-.astrous 
accidents, — can we be unconcerned, whether God's omni- 
^.^^^nt, irresistible, all-eonductipg hand be against us. or for 
which? Imagination itself shudders at the thought ! — Can we 
crowi-|. satisfied, without a well-grounded persuasion, that we 
*""■ Vre reconciled to this supreme Lord, and the objects of I 
'^^'iis unchangeable goodness !- If there be an abandoned 
' "wretch, whose apprehensions are so fatally blinded ; who 
is so utterly lost to all sense of his duty, and of his inter- 
est, let me bewail his misery, while I abhor his impiety : 
Bewail his misery, though popularity, with her choicest | 

-^ Perplexing. — Those who read the original language of the 
Kew Testament, are suiSei^ntly apprized, that such is the sig- 
liiiicancy of that benevolent dissuasive urged by our Lord, 
Matth. vi. 25. — I beg leave, for the sake of the unlearned read- 
er, to observe, that our tmnslation, though for the most part 
iaitliful and excellent, has here mi'^represented our Divine Mas- 
ter's meaning. Take no thought for your food, for your raim- 
ent, for yonr bodily welfare, is not only not the true sense, but 
the very reverse of tliis scriptural doctrine. We are required I 
to take a prudent and moderate thought for the necessaries of 
life. The sluggard who neglects this decent precaution, is se- 
verely reprim-mded ; is sent to one of the meanest animals, to 
blush for hisioily, and learn discretion from her conduct, Prov. 
vi. 6. Our ftavioui'^ p>eeept, and the exact sense .cf his expres-l 
sion, is, Take no anxious thought ; indulge no perplexin?- care ;[ 
no sdch care as may argue an unreasonable distrust of divin( 
prov fdenee, or may rend and tear your uaiuds with distressing 
and pernicious solicitude. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 295 

laurels, adorn his bru v ; though aiHutjnce, with her rich- 
Cbt delicacies, iom hiD lablc ; tiiough hait a nation, or iiaif 
a world, conspire to call him happy. 

May 1, by a believing application, solace myself in 
this everlasting soiuxe of love, perfection, and joy! Grant 
me this request, and I ask no more. — Or.ly, that 1 may 
expect, not with a reiuctaiit anxiety, but wuh a ready 
cheerfulness, the arrival of that important hour, when 
this veil of flesh shall drop, and the shaaows of moitality 
ileeaway: When 1 shall no longer complain of obsctire 
knov/ledge, languid affections, and imperfect fruition ;— 
but shall see the uncreated and immortal Majesty ; see 
him, not in this distant and unaffecting methoa of reason- 
ing from his wovks ; but with tne most clear and direct 
intuition of the miiid ; — When I shall love him, not v/ith 
a cold and contracted spirit ; but with the most lively and 
enlarged emodons of gratitude : — When I shall iuctssant- 
iy enjoy the light of his countenance ; and be united, 
inseparably united, to his all-glorious Godnead. — Take, 
^'e ambitious, unenvied and unopposed, take tu yourselves 
the toys of state. May I be enabled to rejoice in this bles- 
sed hope ; and to triumph in that amiable, that adorable, 
that delightful name, the Lord my God ! and I shall scarce 
bestow a thought on the splendid pageantry of the world, 
unless it be to despise its empty pomp, xnd to pity its de- 
luded admirers. 

All these bodies, though immense in their size, and al- 
most infinite in their multitude, are obedi^itto the Divine 
command. The God of wisdom " telleth their numbers,'^ 
and is intimately acquainted with their various properties. 
The God of power " calleth them all by their names," and 
assigns them whatsoever office he pleases. He marshals 
all the starry legions, w'ith infinitely greater ease, and nicer 
order, than the most expert General arranges his discipli- 
ned troops. He appoints their posts ; he marks their 
route ; he fixes the time for their return. Tne posts 
which he appoints, they occupy without fail In the route 
which he settles, they persevere without the least devia- 
tion. And to the instant,* which he fixes for their re- 

"^^ " The planets and all the inRiimerable host of heavenly bo- 
dies perform their courses and revolutions with so much certain- 
ty and exactness, as never once to fail ; but, for almost 6000 
years, come constantly about to the same period, in the hun- 
dredth part of a minute. Stackhouse's Hist, Bib. 



an f- 



CONIEMPLATIONS 



turn^tbey are precisely punctual. — He has given them a 
law, whichs through a long revolution oi ages, shall not 
be broken, unless his sovereign wiil inierposes for its ap- 
peal Then indeed, the motion oi the celestial orbs is 
controlled, their action remains suspendea ; or their in- 
fluence receives a new direction. — The sun, at his crea- 
tioji, issued forth with a command, to travel perj.elually 
through the Heavens. Since which, he has never neg- 
lected to perform the great circuit ; '• rejoicing a3 a gi- 
ant to run his race." But, when it is requisite to accom- 
plish the purposes of Divine love, the orders are counter- 
manded ; the flaming courier remits his career ; stands 
still iii Gibeon ;* and, for the conveniency of the chosen 
people, holds back the falling day. — The moon was dis- 
patched with a charge, never to intermit her revolving 
course, till day and night come to an end. But when the 
children of Providence are to be favored, with an uncom- 
mon Qontinuaoce of light, she halts in her march; makes a 
solemn pause in the valley of Ajalon,t and delays to bring 
on her attendant train of shadows. — When the enemies of 
the Lord are to be discomfited, the stars are levied into the 
service ; the stars are armed, and take the field ; the 
stars, in their courses fought against Sisera. \ 

*^ This is spoken In conformity to the scripture language, and 
according to th^ eomraon notion. With respect to the power 
which eifeeted tlie alteration, it is much the same thing, and 
alike miraculous, S^hether the sun, or the earth, be supposed to 

move.' -• " ' 

f Josh. X. 12, 13. — The Prophet Habakkiik, according to his 
lofty manner, celebrates this event ; and points out, in very po- 
eticardk'tion, the design of so surprising a minicle- — The sua 
and moon stood still in their ha])itation : In the light, the long- 
cootioued and miraculous light, thy arrows edged with destruc- 
tion, walked on their a^vful errand ; in the clear shining of the 
day, protracied for this very purpose, thy glittering spear, 
laimched by the people, but guided by thy hand, sprung to its 
prey. Hab. iii. 11. 

^' Judg. V. 20. — The scriptural phrase fought against, will, I 
hope, be a proper warrant for every expression I have used on 
this occasion. — The passage is generally su.pposed to signify, 
that some very dreadful meteors (which the stars were thought 
to influence) such as herce Hashes of lightning, impetuous show- 
ers of rain, and rapid storms of hail, were employed by the Al- 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 297 

So dutiful is material Nature I so obsequious, in all her 
forms, to her Creator's pleasure ! — The bellowing thun-^ 
ders listen to iiis voice, and the voilied iightnings observe 
the direction of his eye. The ii\dng' storm, and iiripetu- 
ous whirlwind, wear his yoke. The raging waves revere 
his nod ; they shake the earih ; they dash the skies , yet 
never offer to pass the limiis which he has prescribed. — 
Even the planetary spheres, thougii vastly iavger tnan this 
wide-extended earth, are in his hacci, as clay in the hands 
of a potter. Though swifter than the Northern blast, they 
sweep the long tracts of xther ; yet aie they guided by 
his reins, and execute whatever he injoins. — Ail those e- 
normous globes of central lire, which beam through the 
boundless azure, in comparison cf wliich an arir.y i.f plan- 
ets were like a swanii of Summer- insects ; those, even 
those, are conformable to his wilj, as the melting wax to 
the impressed seal. — Sijce all, All is obedient, throughout 
the whole ascent of things, shall man be the only rebel 
against the Almighty Maker ? Shall these unruly appe- 
tites reject his government, and refuse their allegiance ? 
Shall these head-strong passions break loose from Divine 
restraint, and run wild, in exorbitant sallies, after their 
own imaginations ? 

O my soul, be stung with remorse, and overwhelmed 
with confusion, at the thought ! Is it not a righteous thing, 
that the blessed God should sway the sceptre, with the 
most absolute authority, over all the creatures which his 
power has formed ? especially over those c^eatures^^vhom 
his distinguishing favor has endued vvith the noble princi- . 
pie of reason, and made capable ot a blissful immortality ? 
Sure, if all the ranks of inanimate existence conform to 
their Maker's decree, by the necessity of their nature; 

mighty, to terriiy, nnnoY, and overthrow the enemies of Israel. 
Tf so, there cannot be a more clear and lively paraphrase on the 
text, than those fine liaes of a Jewish writer. His severe 
wrath shall he sharpen tor a sword ; and the world shall iight 
with him a^aicsi the ungodly. Then shall the right-aiiniiig 
thouder-holts §a*abroad ; and iioni the clouds, as from a well- 
drawn bow, shall they fly to the mark. Aad hailstones full of 
wrath, shall be cast out of a stogie bow ; and the water of the 
sea shdl i'a2;e against them; and the iloods (as W2S tiie ease of 
the ri-er Erishon) shall cruslly d-owa them ; yea, a inidity 
wind shah stand up against ihem ; and, like a storm, shall blew 
them away. Wisd, y, 20, 21, 22, 23. 



29S CONTEMPLATIONS 

this more excellent race of beings should pay their equal 
homage, by the willing compliance of their affections.* — 
Coiiie then,allye faculties ofiny mind; come, ail .ye pow- 
ers of my body ; give up yourselves, vvithout a moment's 
delay, without the least reserve, to his governance. Stand, 
like dutiful servants, at his footstool ; in an everlasting 
readiness to do whatsoever he requires : to be whatsoever 
he appoints: to further, with united efforts, the purposes 
of his glory in this earthly scene ; or else to separate, 
without reluctance, at his summons ; the one, to sleep in 
the silent dust ; the other, to advance his honor, in some 
remoter colony of iiis kingdom,. — Thus may I join with 
all the v.'orksorthe Lord in all places of his dominion, to 
recogrtize his universal supremiacy. and proclaim him 
Soverei:^n of souls, as^vell as Ruler of worlds. 

At my first coming abroad, all these luminaries were 
eclipsed, by th.e overpowering lustre of the sun. They 
were all placed in the very satire stations, and played the 
same sprightly bean)s ; yet not one of them was seen. 
As the day-light wore away, and the sober shades advan- 
ced, Hesperus, who leeids the starry train, disclosed his 
radiant forehead, and catched my eye. While I stood ga- 
zing on his bright and beautiful aspect, severaUof his at- 
tendants peeped through tlie blue curtains. Scarce had 1 
turned to observe these fresh emanations of splendor, 
but others dropt the veil, others stole into view. When 

* This argument, I acknowledge, is not aljsohate]y conclus- 
ive. But it is popular and stiikiiig. Kor can I think myself 
obliged, ill such a work, where iancy bears a considerable sway, 
to proceed always with the caution and exactness of a disputer 
in the srncols. If there be Fome appearance of analogy be- 
tu €ffii: the iact and the inference, it ser-ms f^ulfieient tor my 
piupose ; thcugb the dtdnction should noc be necessary, nor the 
process strictly sylogislical.—ORe of the apostolic fathers has 
an afFecting and sublime paragraph, which runs entirely i?i this 
foini : The nui, the moon, and the starry choir, without the 
least deyiation, and with the utmost harmony, perform the re- 
vohitioiis oppointed them hj the Supreme decre^ From 
whli-]i irpiark, and abundance of other similar instances, observ- 
able in the economy of Nature ; he exhoris Christians, to a 
cordi'i] jjnanimity among theniselves, and a dutiful obedience to 
Cod. Yid. Licin. Itoman. 1 ep. ad. Corinth, sect. 20.— See al- 
so abearitifiil ede in Dr. Watts's Lyric Poems, entitled. The 
Comparison and Complaint, which turns upon this very thought. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 299 

lo ! faster and more numerous, multitudes sprung from 
obscurity ; they poured in shining troops, and in sweet 
confusion, over ail liie empyrean plain ; till the firma- 
ment seemed like one vast constellation ,* and " a flood of 
glory burst from all the skies.'' 

Is not such the rise, and such the progress of a true 
conversation, in the prejudiced infidel, or inattentive sin- 
ner ? During the period of his vainer years, a thousand in- 
teresting truths lay utterly undiscovered ; a thousand 
momentous concerns were entirely disregarded. But 
when Divine grace dissipates the delusive glitter, which 
dazzled his understanding, and beguiled his affections , 
then he begins to discern, dimly to discern, the things 
which belong unto his peace. Some admonition of scrip- 
ture darts conviction into his soul, as the glimmering of a 
star pierces the gloom of niglit — Then, perhaps, another 
awful, or cheering text impresses terror, or diffuses com- 
fort. A threatening alarms his fears, or a promise awa- 
kens his hopes. This possibly is succeeded by some af- 
flictive dispensation of Providence, and improved by 
some edifying and instructive conversation. Ail which is 
established as to its continuance, and enlarged as to its in- 
fluence, by a diligent study of the sacred word. — By this 
means, new truths continually pour their evidence. 
Scenes of refined and exalted, but hitherto unknown de- 
light, address him with their attractives. New desires 
take wing ; new purs\uts are set on foot. A new turn of 
mind forms his temper ; a new habit of conversation reg- 
ulates his life. In a word, old things are passed away, 
and all things become nev/. He who was sometime dark- 
ness, is now light, and life, and joy in the Lord. 

The more attentively I view the crystal concave, the 
more fully I discern the richness of its decorations. A- 
bundance of minuter lights, which lay concealed from a 
superficial notice, are visible on a closer examination. 
Especially in those tracts of the sky, which are called the 
galaxy; and are distinguishable by a sort of milky path. 
There the stars are crouded, rather than disseminated. 
The region seems to be all on a bkze, with their splendid 
rays. — Besides this vast profusion, which in my pi'esent 
situation the eye discovers ; was I to make my survey, 
from any other part of the globe, lying nearer the southern 
pole, I should behold a, new choir of starry bodies, which 



300 CONTEMPLATION^ 

have never appeared within our horizon.— Was I (which 
is still more w^onderful) either here or there, to view the 
firmament with the virtuoso's glass ; I should fii;d a pro- 
digious multitude of fiaming orbs, which immersed in 
depths of aether, escape the keenest unassisted sight.*—. 
Yet, in these various situations, even with the aid of the 
telesropic tube, I should not be able to descry the half, 
perhaps not a thousandth part, of those majestic lumina- 
ries, which the vast expansive Heavens contain. t— So, the 
more diligently I pursue my search into those oracles of 
eternal truth, the scri)/tures ; I perceive a wider, a deep- 
er, an ever-increasing fund of spiritual treasures. I per- 
ceive the brighter strokes of wisdom, and the richer dis- 
plays of goodness ; a more transcendant excellency in the 
illustrious Messiah, and more deplorable vileness in fallen 
man ; a more immaculate purity in God's law, and more 
precious privileges in his gospel. Yet, after a course of 
study, ever so assiduous, ever so prolonged, I should have 
reason to own myself a mere babe in heavenly knowl- 
edge ; or, at most a puerile proficient in the school of 
Christ. 

After all my most accurate inspection, those starry orbs 
appear but as glittering points. Even the planets, though 
so much nearer our earthly mansion, seem only like burn- 
ing bullets. If then we have such iaiperfect apprehen- 
sions of visible and material things ; how much more 
scanty and inadequate must be our notions of invisible and 

* Come forth, O man, yon azure round survey. 
And view those lamps, which yield eternal day. 
Bring forth thy glasses : Clear thy wond'ring eyes : 
Millions beyond the former millions rise : 
Look farther ;— milHons more blaze from remoter skies. 

See an ingenious -pcem^ entitled^ The Universe, 

I How^ noble, considered in this view, are the celebrations of 
the Divine Majesty, which frequen - ly occur in the sacred wri- 
tings I It is the Lord that made ihs "leavens. Psalms xcvi. 5. 

What a prodigious dignity does such a sense of things give 

to that devout ascription of nraise ! Thou, even thou, art Lord 
alone; thou hast m?de IJ- a en, ire Heaven of heavens with 
all their host. Xehem. ix. o — ^ Examined by this nile, the 
beautiful chmax in our irj^pired hymn, is sublime beyond com- 
parison. Praise him, snr; l J moon : Praise him, all ye stars of 
light : Praise him, ye Reaveu of Heavens, cxlviii. 3, 4. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 301 

immortal objects !— We behold the stars. Though eyery 
one is incomparably bigger than the globe we inhabit, 
yet they dwindle, upon our survey, into the most diminu- 
tive forms. Thus, we see by faith the glories of the bles- 
sed Jesus; the atoning efficacy of his death; the justify- 
ing merit of his righteousness ; and the joys which are 
reserved for his followers. But alas 1 even our most ex- 
alted ideas are vastly below the truth ; as much below the 
truth as the report which our eyes make of those celestial 
edifices, is inferior to their real grandeur. — Should we 
take in all the magnifying assistances which art has con- 
trived ; those luminous bodies would elude our skill, and 
appear as small as ever. Should an inhabitant of earth 
travel towards the cope of Heaven ; and be carried forward, 
in -is aerial journey, more than a hundred and sixty mil- 
lions .'f miles ;* even in that advanced situation, those 
oceans »yf ntnie '^^juld look no larger than radiant specks. 
— In like manner, coi-ceive ever so magnificeiitly of the 
Redeemer's honors, and of the bliss which he has purchas- 
ed for his people ; yet you will fall short. Raise your im- 
agination higher ; stretch your invention wider ; give 
them all the scope which a soaring and excursive fancy 
can take ; still your conceptions will be extremely dispro- 
portionate to their genuine perfections. Vast ai*e the bo- 
dies which roll in the expanse of Heaven ; vaster far are 
those fields of aether, through which they run their endless 
round : but the excellency of Jesus, and the happiness 
laid up for his servants, are greater than either, than both, 
than all. An inspired writer calls the former " the un- 
searchable riches of Christ ;" and stiles the latter, " an ex- 
ceeding great and eternal weight of glory." 

If those stars are so many inexhaustible magazines of 
fire, and immense reservoirs of light ; there is no reason 
to doubt, but they have some very grand uses, suitable to 
the magnificence of their nature. To specify or explain 

* This, incredible as it loa^y seem, is not a mere supposition, 
but a real fact. For, about the tvveaty-nrst of December, we 
are about 160,000,000 of milcS nearer the Xorthera parts of ths 
sky, than we were at the twenty-first of June. And yet, with 
regard to the stars situated in that quarter, we perceive no 
change in their aspect, nor any augmentation of their magni* 
tude, 

B B 



S05 eONTEMPLATIONS 

the particular purposes they answer, is altogether impos- 
sible, in our present state of distance and ignorance. This, 
however, we may clearly discern ; they are disposed in 
that very manner which is most pleasing and most service- 
able to mankind. — They are not placed at an infinite re- 
Tnove, so as to lie beyond our sight ; neither are they 
brought so near our abodes, as to annoy us with their 
beams. We see them shine on every side. The deep 
azure, which serves them as a ground, heightens their 
splendor. At the same time, their influence is gentle, and 
their rays are destitute of heat. So that we are surround- 
ed with a multitude of fiery globes, which beautify and il- 
luminate the firmament, without any risk, either to the 
coolness of our night, or the quiet of our repose. — Who 
can sufficiently admire that wondrous benignity, which^ on 
our account, strews the earth with blessings of every kind, 
and vouchsafes to make the very heavens subservient to 
our delight ! 

It is not solely to adorn the roof of our palace with cost- 
ly gildings, that God commands the celestial luminaries 
to glitter through the gloom. We also reap considerable 
benefits from their ministry. — -They divide our time, ar.d 
fix its solemn periods. They settle the order of our 
ivorks ; and are, according to the destination mentioned in 
sacred writ, " for signs, and for seasons ; for days, and for 
years." The returns of heat and coJd alone, would have 
been too precarious a rule. But these radiant bodies, by 
the variation^ and also by the regularity of their motions, 
afford a method of calculating, absolutely certain, and suf- 
iiciently obvious. By this, the farmer is instructed when 
to commit his grain to the furrows, and how to conduct 
the operations of husbandry. By this, the sailor knows 
when to proceed on his voyage with least peril, and how 
to carry on the business of navigation with most success. 

Why should not the Christian, the probationer for eter- 
nity, learn from the same monitors, to number — for nobler 
purposes, to number his days ; and duly to transact the 
grand, grand affairs of his everlasting salvation ? Since 
God has appointed so many bright measures of our* t|me, 
to determine its larger periods, and to minute down its 
ordinary stages ; sure this most strongly inculcates its 
value, and should powerfully prompt us to improve it. — 
Behold I the supreme Lord marks the progress of our life, 



A ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS . 303 

iti that most conspicuous kalendar above. Does not such 
an ordination tell us, and in the most emphatical language, 
that our life is given for use, not for waste ? That no por- 
tion of it is delivered, but under a strict account; that all 
of i' is entered as it passes, in the Divine register ; and, 
therefore, that the stewards of such a talent are to expect 
a future recko ling ? Behold ! the very heavens are bidden 
to be the accountants of our years, and months, and days. 
O I may this induce us to manage them with a vigilant 
frugality; to part with them, as misers with their hoard- 
ed treasures, warily and circumspectly; and, if possible, as 
niercha its with their rich commodities, not without an 
equivalent, either in personal improvement, or social use- 
fulness ! 

How bright the starry diamonds shine! The ambition 
of E istern Mbnarchs could imagine no distinction more 
noble and sublime, than that of being likened to those beam- 
ing orbs.* They form Night's richest dress ; and sparkle 
upoi her sable robe, like jewels of the finest lustre. Like 
jewels ! I wrong their character* The lacid stone has no 
briiiiiiicy ; quenched is the flame even of the golden to- 
paz ; compared with those glowing decorations of Heaven. 
How widely are their radiant honors diffused ! No nation 
so remote, but sees their beauty, and rejoices in their use- 
fulness. They have been admitted by all preceding gen- 
erations ; and every rising age will gaze on their charms, 
■with rensw^id delight. How animating, then, is that prom- 
ise made to the faithful ministers of the gospel; " They 
that tarn many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars 
for ever and ever."t Is not this a most winning encour- 
agement, '' to spend and be spent" in the service of souls ? 
Methinks, the stars beckon, as they twinkle. Methinks, 
they shew me their splendors on purpose to inspire me 
with alacrity, in the race set before me : on purpose to en- 
liven my activity, in the work that is given me to do.— 
Yes ; ye majestic monitors, I understand your meaning. 
if honor has any charms ; if true glory, the glory which 
Cometh from God, is any attractive ; you display the most 
powerful incitements to exercise all assiduity in my holy 
vocation. I will henceforth, observe your intimation ; and, 
when zeal becomes languid, have recourse to your heaven-. 

^Numb. xxiv. 17, Dan. viii. 10. fDan. xii. 3* 



W^4t CONTEMPLATIONS 

ly lamps ; if so be I may rekindle its ardor at those inext 
tinguishabie fires. 

Of the polar star, it is observable, that, while other lu- 
minaries alter their situation, this seems invariably fixed.* 
While other luminaries, now, mount the battlements of 
Heaven, and appear upon duty ; now, retire beneath the 
Iioriz n, and resign to a fresh set the watches of the ni^ht ; 
this never departs from its station. This, in every season, 
maintains an uniform position ; and is always to be found 
in the same tract of the Northern sky. — ^^How often has 
this beamed bright intelligence on the sailor ; and con- 
ducted the keel to its desired haven ! In early ages, those 
who went dov/n to the sea in ships, and occupied their bu- 
siness if. great waters, had scarce any other sure guide for 
their wandering vessel. This therefore, they viewed with 
the most solicitous attention. By this they formed their 
observations, and regulated their voyage. When this was 
obscured by clouds, or enveloped in mists, the trembling 
mariner was bewildered on the watery waste. His thoughts 
fluctuated, as much as the floating surge ; and he knew 
not where he was advanced, or whither he should steer. 
But, when this suspicious star broke through the gloom, 
it dissipated the anxiety of his mind, and cleared up his 
dubious passage ; he reassumed, with alacrity, the man- 
agement of the helm; and was able to shape his course 
%yith some tolerable degree of satisfaction and certainty. 

Such, only much clearer in its light, and much surer in 
its direction, is the holy word of God) to those myriads of 
intellectual beings, who are bound for the eternal shores ; 
who, embarked in a vessel of feeble flesh, are to pass the 
waves of this tempestuous and perilous world. In all dif- 
ficulties, those sacred pages shed an encouraging ray ; in 
all uncertainties, they suggest the right determination and 
point out the proper procedure. What is still a niore in- 
estimable advantage, they, like the star which conducted 
the Eastern Sages^ m^ake plain the way of access t a Re- 
deemer. They display his unspeakable merits ; they dis-^ 
cover the method of being interested in his great atone- 
ment ; and lead the weary soul, tossed by troubles, and 

*X speak ^n conformity to the a|)pearance of the object. For 
though this remarkable star revolves round the pole, its motion is 
so slow, and the circle it describes, so smaU as lender both the re* 
•iiolutjon, and change of situation, hardly perceivable. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 305 

shattered by temptations, to that harbor of peaceful repose- 
— Let us, therefore, attend to this unerring direciory, with 
the same constancy of regard, as the sea-fanng man ob-« 
serves his compass. Let us become as thoroughly ac- 
quainted with this sacred chart, as the pilot is with every 
^rusty mark, that gives notice of a lurking rock ; and with 
'-every open road that yields a safe passage ihto the port* 
Above ailj let us commit ourselves to this infaliible guid- 
ance, with the same imphcit resignation : let us cor-iorm 
our conduct to its exalted precepts, with the same sedulous 
care, as the children of Israel, wiien sojourning in the 
trackless desen, followed the pillar of fire, and the mo- 
tions of the miraculous cloud — So will it introduce us, not 
into an earthly Canaan, flowing with milk and honey ; but 
into an immortal paradise, where is the fulness of joy, and 
where are pleasures lor evermore. It will introduce us 
into those happy regions, where our sun shall no more go 
down, nor our moon withdraw itself; for the Lord shall 
be our everlasting light ; and the day of our mourning, 
together with the fatigues of our pilgrimage shall be end- 
ed.* 

I perceive a great variety in the size and splendor of 
those gems of Heaven. Some are of the first magnitude ; 
others of an inferior order. Some glow^ with intense 
flames ; others glimmer with fainter beams. Yet all are 
beautiful ; all ha.ve their peculiar lustre, and distinct use ; 
all tend, in their different degrees, to enamel the cope of 
Heaven, and embroider the rohe of Night. — This circum- 
stance is remarked by an author, whose sentiments are a 
sou^xe of wisdom, and the very standard of truth. *' One 
star," says the Apostle to the Gentiles, " difPereth from 
another star in glorv : so also is the resurrection of the 
dead." 

In the world above, are various degrees of happiness, 
various seats of honor. Some will rise to ipore illustri- 
ous distinctions, and richer joys.f Some, like vessels of 
. ample capacity, will admit more copious accessions of light 

* Isa, Lx. 20. 

t 1 Cor. XV. 41 42. The great Mf ?>lede prefers the sense here 
given ; and the learned Dr. HanniT^oi-'d admis it into hi? para- 
phrase : whose joint authority, though far from excluding any oth» 
cr, yet is a sufEcieBt warrant for thh application of the words. 
B B 2 



306 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and excellence. Yet there will be no want, no deficiency.^ 
in any ; but a fulness, both of Divine satisfactions, and per- 
sonal perfections. Each will enjoy all the good, and be 
adorned with all the glory, that his heart can wish, or his 
condition receive. — None will know what it is to envy. 
Not the least malevolence, nor the least selfishness, but 
everlasting friendship prevails, and a mutual complacency 
in each other's delight. Love, cordial love, will give eve- 
ry particular saint a participation of all the fruitions,* which 
are diffused through the whole assembly of the blessed.-— 
No one eclipses, but each reflects light upon his brother. 
A sweet interchange of rays subsists; all enlightened by 
the great Fountain, and all enlightening one another. By 
which reciprocal communication of pleasure and amity, 
each will be continually receiving from, each incessantly 
adding to, the general felicity. 

Happy, supremely happy they, who are admitted into 
the celestial mansions. Better to be a doorkeeper in those 
*^ ivory palaces,"t than to fill the most gorgeous throne on 
earth. The very lowest place at God's right hand, is dis- 
4in^^uished honor, and consummate bliss. — O I that we may, 
in some measure, anticipate that beatific state, while we 
sremain in our banishment below ! May we, by rejoicing 
in the superior prosperity of another, make it our ov/n : 
and, px^ovided the general result is harmony, be content, 
he pleased with whatsoever part is assigned to our share, 
in the universal choir of affairs. 

Wi'iile I am considering the heavenly bodies, I must 
jiot entirely foro^et those fundamental laws of our modern 
astronomy, projection, and attraction. One of which is 
the all combinin;.^ cement, the other is the ever-operating 
fipriuir. of the mighty fra'ie- — In the beginning, the all- 
crea^nir Fi^^- imnressed a proper degree of motion on each 
of those wbi-ding orbs. Which, if not controlled, would 
liave carried them on, in straight lines, and to endless 
lengths ; till t';ey were even lost in the abyss of space. 
But the gravitating property, being added to the projec- 

♦ Tolle invidiam et tuum est quod habeo. ToUe invidiam, ^t 
.aieum est quod h?i,b^s,-^ Augustine 



^m 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 307 

itile force, determined their courses to a circular* form; 

^and obliged the reluctant rovers to perform their destined 
rounds. — Were eitlier of those causes to suspend their 
action, all the harmoniously-moving spheres would be 
disconcerted ; would degenerate into sluggish in^^ctive 
masses ; and, falling into the central fire,- be burnt to ash- 
es ; or else would exorbitate into v/ild confusion ; and 
each, by the rapidity of its whirl, be dissipated ii^to atoms. 
But the impulsive and attractive energy being most nicely 
attempered to each other; and, under the im.meaiate op- 
eration of the Almighty, exerting themselves in perpetual 
concert; the various globes run their radiant races, with- 
out the least interruption, or the least deviation ; so as to 
create the alternate changes of day and night, and distiibute 
the useful vicissitudes of succeeding seasons ; so as to an- 
swer all tiie great ends of a gracious Providence, and pro- 
cure every comfortable convenience for universal Nature. 
Does not this constitution of the material, very naturally 
lead the thouglits to those grand principles of the moral 
and devotional, world, faith and love /—These are often 
celebrated by the inspired a])ostle, as a conjprehensive 
summary ot the gospel .t These inspirit the breast, and 
regulate the progress, of each private Christian. These 
unite the whole congregation of the faithful to God, and 
one another j to God, the great centre, in the bonds of grat- 
itude and devotion : to one another, by a reciprocal inter- 
course of brotherly affections, and friendly offices. — if you 

• I am aware, the planetary orbits are not strictly circular, but 
i*ather eliptical However, as they are but a small remove Irom the 
perfectly round figure, and partake of it incomparably more than the 
trajectories of the comets, I claose to represent the thing in this 
view Lspecially, because the notion of a circle is so much more 
intelligible to the generality of readers, than that of an ellipsis ; and 
because I laid it down for a rule, not to admit any such abstruse 
sentiment, or difficult expression, as should demand a painful atten- 
tion, instead of raising an agreeable idea. For which reason, I have 
avoided technical terms ; have taken no noticeof j upiter's satellites, 
or Saturn^s ring ; have not so much a:^ mentioned the names of the 
planets, nor attempted to wade into any depths of the science • lest, 
to those who have no opportunity of using the telescope, or of ac- 
quainting themselves with a system of astronomy, I should pre- 
pound riddles, rather than display enteitalnhig and edifying truths. 

t Col. i, 4. Philem. ver.S. 




oOb CONTEMPLATIONS 

ask. Why is it impossible for tlie true believer to live at 
ail aGlventures ? to sta^^aate its sloth, or iiabitually to de- 
viate from duty ? — We answer, it is owing to '^ his faith, 
working by lov'e"* He assuredly trusts that Christ has 
sustained the infamy, and endut*ed the torment, due to his 
sias. He firmly relies on that Divine propitiation, for the 
pardon of ail his guilt ; and huuibly expects everiastiiig 
salvation, as the parchase of his Savioiu's merits. This 
produces such a spirit of gratitude, as refines his inclina- 
tions, and animates his whole behavior. He cannot, he 
cannot run to excess of riot ; because love to his adorable 
Redeemer, like a strong, but silken curb, sweetly restrains 
him. He cannot, he cannot, lie lulled in a lethargic indo- 
lence ; because love to the same iiifiijite Benefactor, like 
a pungent, but endearing spur, pleasingly excites him. — 
In a word, faith supplies tne poweriul impulse, while love 
gives the determining bias ; and leads the willing feet 
through the whole circle of God's commandments. By 
the united efficacy of these heavenly graces, the Christian 
conduct !s preserved, in the uniformity and beauty of ho- 
liness ; as, by the blended power of those Nev»^to.tian prin- 
ciples, the solar system revolves, in a steady and magnif- 
icent regularity. 

How admirable, how extensive, how diversified, is the 
force of this single principle, attraction !t — Tiiis penetrates 
the very essence of all bodies, and diffuses itself to the 
remotest limits of the mundane sys.em. — By this, the 
worlds, impressed with motion, hang self-balanced on their 
centres 4 and, though orbs of imnense magnitude, re- 
quire nothing but this amazing property for their support. 
"—To this we ascribe a phenomenon, of a very different 
kind, the pressure of the atmosphere ; whch, though a 
yielding and expansive fluid, yet constipated by an attrac- 
tive energy, surrounds the whole globe, and incloses eve- 
ry creature, as it were, with a tight bandage. An expe- 
dient this, absolutely necessary to preserve the texture of 
our bodies ; and indeed, to maintain every species of an- 

* Gal. v. 6. 

t I mean, the attraction both of gravitation and cohesioist 

1 Ponderibus librata suis.— Oi'/f/. 



ON THE STARRY-ITEAVENS. 309 

imal existence. — Attraction ! Urged by this wonderful im- 
petus, the rivers circulate, copious and uninternaitted, 
among all the nations of the earth ; sweeping with rapidi- 
ty down the steeps, or softly ebbiig through the plains. 
Impelled by the same mysterious force, the nutritious jui- 
ces are detached from the soil ; and, ascendii.g the trees, 
find their way through millions of the finest meanders, in 
order to transfuse vegetative life into the branc^ies. — This 
confines the ocean within proper bounds. Though the 
waves thereof roar ; though they loss themselves with all 
the madness of indignant rage ; yet checked by this po- 
tent, this inevitable curb, they are unable to pass even the 
slight barriei' of sand. To this the mountains ov/e that 
unshaken firmness, which laughs at the Ghock of career- 
-%ig w^Pids ; and bids the tempest, with ail its mn.gled hor- 
rors, impotently rave. — By virtue of this invisible m.echan- 
ism, without the aid of crane or pulley, or any instrument 
of human device, many thousand tons of water are raised, 
every moment, into the regions of the firmament. By 
this, they continue suspended in thin air, without any ca- 
pacious cistern to contain their substance, or any massy 
pillars to sustain their weight. By this samic variously-ac- 
ting power, they return to the place of their native resi- 
dence ; distilled in gentle falls of dew, or precipitated in 
impetuous showers of rain. They slide into the fields in 
fleecy flights of snow or are darted upon the houses in 
clattering storms of hail. — ^This occasions the strong co- 
hesion of solid bodies ; without which, our large mrachines 
could exert themselves with no vigor ; and the nicer uten- 
sils of life would elude our expectations of service. This 
. affords a foundation for all those delicate or noble mechan- 
ic arts, which furnish mankind v.'ith numberless conven- 
iencies, both of ornament and delight. — In short, this is the 
prodigious ballast, which composes the equilibrium, and 
constitutes the stability of things ; this the great chain, 
which forms the connections of universal Nature ; and 
the mighty engine, v/hich prompts, facilitates, and, in good 
measure, accom.plishes almost all her operations. — What 
complicated efl'ects from, a single cause !* What profusion 
anaidst frugality ! An unknown profusion of benefits, 
with the utmost frugality of expense ! 

* See another remarkable instance of this kind, in the Reflections 
on a Flower-Gaidea, voU I. 



31© 



CONTEMPLATIONS 



And what is this attraction ? Is it a quality, in its exist- 
ence, inseparable from matter; and, in its acting, inde- 
pendent on the Deity 1 — Quite the reverse. It is the \ery 
finger of God ; the constant impression of Divine power; 
a principle, neither innate in matter, nor intelligible by 
mortals. — Does it not, however, bear a considerable analo- 
gy to the agency of the Holy Ghost in the Christian oecon- 
omy ? Are not the gracious operations of the Biessed 
Spirit, thus extensive, thus admirable, thus various ?-^ 
That Ahnighty Being transmits his gifts through every 
age, and communicates his graces to every adherent of the 
Redeemer. All, eithev of lHustvious memory, or of benefi- 
cial tendency ; in a vrord, " all the good that is done upon 
earth, he doeth it himself." SU'ong in his aid, and in the 
power of his m.ioht, th.e saints of all times have trod vice 
under their feet ; have triumphed over this abject world ; 
ai:d conversed in heaven, whiie they dwelt on earth Not 
I; but the grace of God which was with me,* is the unani- 
mous acknGV/'edgment of them all. — By the sam^e kindly 
succours the whole chu.ch is still enlightened, quickened, 
and governe:]. Through his benign influences, the scales 
of ignorance fall from the understanding , the leprosy of 
evil ioni upiscence is purged from the will ; and the fetters, 
the move u:?.n adamantine fetters of habitual iniquity, drop 
off from tie conversaiion. He breaths even upon dry 
bones-t and they live : They are animated with faith : they 
pant wit!) ardent and heavenly desire ; they exercise them- 
selves in all the duties of godliness. — His real, though se- 
cret, inspii^ation, dissolves the flint inJ:he impenitent breast, 
and binds up the sorrow's of the broken heart ; raises the 
thoughts high, in the elevations of holy, hope ; yet lays thom 
low, in the humiliations of inward abasement ; steels the 
soul with impenetrable resolution, and persevering forti- 
tude ; at the -ame time, softens it into a dove-like meek- 
ness, and melts it in penitential sorrow. 

When I contemplate those ample and magnificent 
stru.'Uires, er-cted over all the setherial plains: — When I 
look upon them, as so many splendid repositories of light, 

*1 Cor. XV. 10. 

•}• See that beaatiful piece of sacred and allegorical imagery dis- 
played, Ezek. XXX VI I, 



ON THE STARRY-HE AVENSe 311 

or fruitful abodes of life : — When I remember, that there 
may be other orbs, vastly more remote than those which 
appear to our unaided sight ; orbs, whose effulgence, 
though travelling ever since the creation, is not yet arrived 
upon our coasts :* — When I stretch my thoughts to the 
innumerable orders of being, which inhabit all those spa- 
cious systems ; from the loftiest seraph, to the lowest rep- 
tile ; from the armies of angels, which surround the throne 
of Jehovah, to the puny nations, which tinge with blue the 
surface of the pluai^t or luantle the standing pool with 
green :— « How various appear the links in this-immense 
chain I how vast the gradations in this universal scale of 
existence I Yet all these, though ever so vast and various, 
are the work of God's hand, and are full of his presence. 

He rounded in his palm those dreadfully large globes, 
which are pendulous in the vault of Heaven. He kindled 
those astonishingly bright fires, which fill the firmament 
with a flood of glory. By him they are suspended in fluid 
sether, and cannot be shaken : — By him they dispense a 

*If this conjecture (which has no less a person than the celebra- 
ted Mr. Huygens for its author,) concerning unseen stars, be true ; 
— if, to this observation, be added, what is affirnned by our skilful 
astronomers, that the motion of the rays of light is so stirprisingly 
swift, as to pass through ten millions of miles m a single minute; — 
How vast! beyond imagination vast and unmeasurable, are the 
spaces of the universe ! — While the mind is distended with the 
grand idea; or rather, while she is dispatching her ablest powers of 
piercing jud2:naeni, and excursive fancy ; and finds them all drop 
short, all baffled by the amazing subject : Permit me to apply that 
spirited exclamation and noble remark. — 

Say, proud arch, 

Built with Divine ambition ; in disdain 

Of limit built ; builr in the taste of Heav'n ! 

Vast concave ! ample dome ! wast thou design'd 

A meet apartment tor the Deity ? 

Not so; That thought alone thy state impairs; 

Thy lofty sinks ; and shallows thy profound ; 

And strengthens thy diflfusive. Night-Th-jughts^ 2/b' IX^ 

t Ev'd the blue down the purple plum surrounds, 
A living '/.'orld, thy failing sight confounds* 
To him a peopled habiraion shows. 
Where mUlions tasie rhe bounty. God bestows. 

Si€ a beautiful and instructive Foem stykd Deity, _ 



3 i 2 CONTEMPLATIONS 

perpetual tide of beams, and are never exhausted. — He 
formed, with inexpressible nicety, that delicately fine col- 
lection of tubes ; that unknown multiplicity of subtile 
spruigs, which organize and actuate the frame of the min- 
utest insect. He bids the crimson current roll ; the vital 
movements play ; and associates a world of wonders, even 
in an animated point.* — In all these is a signal exhibition 
of creating power ; to all these are extended the special 
regards of preserving goodness. From hence let me 
learn, to rely on the providence, and to revere the pres- 
ence, of the Supreme Majesty. 

To rely on his providence. — For, amidst that inconceiv- 
able number and variety of beings, which swarm through 
the regions of the creation- not oiie is overlooked, not one 
is neglected, by the great Omnipotent Cause of all. How- 
ever inconsiderable in its character, or diminutive in its 
size, it is still the production of the Universal Maker, and 
belongs to the family of the Almighty Father I — What ? 
though enthroned archangels enjoy the smiles of his coun- 
tenance ! yet the low inhabitants of the earth, the most 
despicable worms of the ground, are not excluded from 
his providential care. Though the manifestation of his 
perfections is vouchsafed to holy and intellectual essences; 
his ears are open to the cries of the young raven. His 
eye is attentive to the wants, and to the welfare, of the very 
meanest births of nature. — How much less, then, are his 
own people disregarded ? those, for whom he has deliver- 
ed his beloved Son to death, and for whom he has prepar- 

# There are living creatures abundantly smaller than the mite. 
Mr. Bradley, in his Treatise on Gardening rnentions an insect, 
which, after accurate examination, he found to be a rhonsand tirres 
less than the lea^t visible grain of sand. Yet such an insect thc:'gh 
quite imperceptible to the nailed eye, is an elephant, is a wh^e, 
compared with other animalcuies almos- infinuely more trnnuie. a s- 
oovered by Mr Lewenhaeck. — If we consider the several I'mbs 
which compose such an organized patt'cle ; rhe different inu-cles 
li which actuate such a set of limbs ; ihe flow cf spirits incom^jar.. bly 

more attenuated, which put those muscles in motion ; he various 
fluids which circulate ; the different secretions which are performed ; 
together with the peculiar niinutene^s of the sobds, bef-re they ar- 
rive at theii full growth: not to mention o'her more astorjshing modes 
of diminution ; — ^ure, we shall have the utmost reason to acknowl- 
edge, hat the adored Maker is— maximus in minimis ; greatly glo- 
If]: *ious, even in his smallest works. 



If ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 313 

ed habitations of eternal joy. They disregarded ! No. 
They are " kept as the apple of an eye." The very hairs 
of their head are all numbered. The fondest mother may 
forget her infant, that is dandled upon her knees, and 
sucks at her breast,* much sooner than the Father of ev- 
erlasting compassions can discontmue, or remit, his 
v/atchful tenderness to his people — his children- — his heirs. 
Let this teach me also a more lively sense of the Divine 
presence. — All the rolling worlds above, all the living 
atoms below, together with all the beings that intervene 
betwixt these wide extremes, are vouchers for an ever 
present Deity. God " has not left himself without wit- 
ness/* The marks of his footsteps are evident in every 
place, and the touches of his finger distinguishvable in eve- 
ry creature. " Tiiy name is so nigh, O thou all-support- 

*Isa xLTX. 15- Can a woman forget her sucking child that 
she should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? Yea. they 
may forget ; yet wll 1 no*- forget thee. — How delicate and express- 
ive are ihe image'> in this charming scrlptme ! — IIovv full of beauty, 
it beheld in a critical, bow rich AMth consolation, if considered ih a 
believing, view ! — Can a woman! one of the softer sex : whose 
nature is most impressible, and whose passions are remarkably ten- 
der ; — can such a one, not barely disregard but entirely forget ; not 
suspend her care for a while, but utterly erase the very memory — of 
her child ; her own ch Id not another's; a child that was formed in 
her wonib, and is a pare of herself ? — her son ; the more important, 
•find therefore more desirable species ; to whom it peculiarly belongs 
to preserve the name, and build up the family ; — Her only son; for 
the word is singular, and refers to a case, where ♦he oflfspring, not 
being numerous, but centred in a single birth, must be productive 
of {he fondest endearment, — Can she divest herself of all concern 
for such a child ; not when he is grown up to maturity, or gone 
abroad from her house , but while he continues in an infan'ile state, 
and must owe his whole safety to her kind atrendauce ; while he 
lies in her bosom, rests on her arm, and even sucks at her breast ?— 
Especially, if the poor innocent be racked with pain, or seized by 
some severe afiiiction ; and so become an object of compassion, as 
well as of love : Can she hear its piercing cries ; can she see 't all 
restless, all helpless, under itsi misery ; and feel no emotions of pa- 
rental pity I — If one such monster of inhumanity might be found; 
could all mothers be so der^enerate ? This, suie, carinot be suspected, 
need not be feared Much less need *he true believer be apprehen^ 
sive of the failure of my kiv^dnes^. An universal extinctirn of those 
strongest affections of Nature, is a more Fupposable case, than that I 

should ever be unmindful of my people, or regardless of tljeir inm^ 
esis, J r i i o 



314 GONTEMPLATIONS 

*' ing, all-in formiFjg Lord ! and that do thy wondrous 
*^ works declare.* Thy goodness warnis in the morning- 
*' sun, and refreshes in the evening breeze. Thy glory 
^' shines in the lamps of midnight, and smiles in the blos- 
*^ soms of Spring. We see a trace of thy incomprehensi- 
*^ ble grandeur in the boundless extent of things, and a 
*' sketch of thy exquisite skill in those almost evanescent 
*^ sparks of life, the insect-race." — How stupid is this 
heart of mine, that, amidst such a multitude of remembran- 
cers, thronging en every side, I should forget thee a single 
moment ! Grant me, thou great 1 Am ! tliou Source and 
Support of universal existence !— O giant me an enlight- 
ened eye, to discern thee in every object; and devout 
heart, to adore thee on every occasion. Instead of living 
without God in the world, may 1 be ever with him, and 
see all things full of him ! 



-The glitt'ring stars, 



By th€ deep ear of meditation heard, 

Still in their midnight-watches sing of him. 

He nods a calm. The tempest blows his wrath, 

The thunder is his voice; and the red flash 

His speedy sword of justice. At his touch 

The mountains flame. He shakes the solid earth, 

And rocks the nations. Nor in these alone, 

In every common instance God is seen. 

Thompson's Sprivg, 

If the beautiful spangles which a clear night pours on 
the beholder's eye ; if those other fires, which beam in re- 
moter skies, and are discoverable only by that revelation 
to the sight, the telescope ; tf all those bright millions are 
so many mountains of day, enriched with native and inde- 
pendent lustre, illuminating planets, and enlivening sys- 
tems ot their own :t What pomp, how majestic and splen- 

* Psal Lxxv. 1» 

t CoBsult with Reason ; Reason will reply. 
Each lucid point, which glows in yonder sky, 
Informs a systenn in the boundless space. 
And fillSj with glory, its appointed place: 
With beams unborrow'd. brightens other skies ;^ 
And worlds, to thee unknown, with heat and life supplies. 

Tbe Universe, 



GN THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 315 

did, is disclosed in the midi jght-scene ! What riches are 
disseminated through all those numberless piovinces of 
the great Jehovah'b empire ! — Grandeur beyond expres-» 
sion I — Yet there is ):Ot the meanest slave, but carries 
greater wealth in his own bosom ; possesses superior dig- 
nity in his own person. The soul, taat infor iis his clay : 
— the soul, that teaches him to think, and enables him to 
choose ; that qualifies hnu to relish rational pleasure, and 
to breathe subhme desire ;* — the soul, that is endowed 
with such Tiobie faculties, and above all, is distinguished 
with the dreadful, the glorious capacity, ot being pained 
or blessed forever ; — this soul surpasses in worth, what- 
ever the eye can see ; whatever of material the fancy can 
imagine. Before one "such intellectual being, all the treas- 
ure and all the magiiificence of unintelligent creation be- 
comes poor and cont:mptible.t For this soul, Omnipo- 
tence itself has waded, and worked, through every age. 
To convince tliis soul, the fundamental laws of Nature 
have been controlled ; and the most amazing miracles 
have alarmed all the ends of the earth. To instruct this 
soul, the wisdom of Heaven has been transfused into the 
sacred page ; and missionaries have been sent from the 
great King, who resides in light unapproachable. To 
sanctify this soul, the Almighty Comforter takes the wings 
of a dove ; and with a sweet transforming influence, 
broods on the hurnan heart. And O ! to redeem this 
soul from guilt, to rescue it from hell, the Heaven of Hea- 
vens, was bowed, and God himself came down to dwell in 
dust. 

Let me pause a while upon this important subiect 

What are the schemes which engage the attention of em- 

* In thh respect, as vested with such capacities, the sou! even of 
fallen men has an ur.questionable greatness and dignity ; is majestic 
though in ruin. 

•! I beg leave to transcribe a pertinent passage, from that celebrated 
master or reason, and universal iiterature. Dr. Bentley ; whom no 
one can be tennpted to suspect either tinctured with enthusiasnri;, or 
warped ^o bigorry.— '« If we consider/' says he, ** the dignity of an 
intelligent being, and put that in the scale against brute and inani- 
mate matter, we may affirm, without overvaluing human nature, 
that the soul of one virtuous and religious man, is of greater worth 
and excellency, than the tun and his planets, and all the stars in the 
^ orld." See bis Sermons at Boyle's Leety No. 8. 



316 CONTEMPLATION'S 

inent statesmen, and mighty monarchs, compared wiih 
the grand interests of an immortal soul / The support of 
Gpmmerce, and the success of armies, though extremely 
weighty affairs ; yet, if laid in the balance against the sal- 
vation of a soul, are lighter than the downy feather, poised 
against talents of gold. To save a navy from shipwreck, 
or a kingdom from slavery, are deliverances of the most 
momentous nature, which the transactions of mortality can 
admit. But O 1 how they shrink into an inconsiderable 
trifle, if (their aspect upon immc-rtality forgot) they are 
set in competition with the delivery of a single soul, from 
the anguish and horrors of a distressed eternity !* 

Is such the importance of the soul ! v, hat vigilance then 
can be too much, or rather what holy solicitude can be 
sufficient, for the overseers of the Saviour's flock, and the 
guardians of this great, this venerable, this invaluable 
charge ? — Since such is the importance of the soul, wilt 
thou not, O man, be watchful for the preservation of thy 
own ? Shall every casual incident awaken thy concern ; 
every transitory toy command thy regard ? and shall the 
•welfare of thy soul, a work of continual occurrence, a work 
of endless consequence, sue, in vain, for thy serious care. 
Thy soul, thy soul, is thy all. If this be secured, thou art 
greatly rich, and wilt be unspeakably happy. If this be 
lost, a whole world acquired, will leave thee in poverty ; 
and all its delight enjoyed, will abandon thee to misery. 

1 have often been charmed, and awed, at the sight of the 
iiOQturnal Heavens ; even before I knew how to consider 
them in their proper circumstances of majesty and beauty. 
Something like magic has struck my mind, on a. transient 
and unthinking survey of the oetherial vault, tinged 
throughout with the purest azure, and decorated with in- 
numerable starry lamps. I have felt, I know not what, 
powerful and aggrandizing impulse; which seemed to 
snatch me from the low intanglements of vanity, and 
prompted an ardent sigh for sublimer objects. Metliought 
I heard, even fiom the silent splxcres, a cornmarding tall, 
to spurn the abject earth, and pant after unseen delights.—. 

# Not all yoT! luminaries queniird at opce 
Were half so sad as one benigh'ed mind. 
Which grcpes for happiness ?nci 'T)ee^.s despair. 

Night-rkouuhts, No. IX. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 317 

Henceforward, I hope to imbibe more copiously this mor" 
al emanation of the skies, wiien, in some sucn maiiner as 
the preceding, tney aie rationally seen, and the signi is du- 
ly improved. The stars, I trust, will teach as well a© 
shiiie ; and help to dispel, both Nature's gioorn, and my 
intellectual darkness. To some people, tney discharge 
no better a service, than that of holding a flambeau to tiieir 
feet, and sotteniiig the horrors of their night. To me and 
iTiV friends, may they act as ministers of a superior order, 
as counsellors of wisdom, and guides to happinesb ! Nor 
will they fail to execute this nobler office, if they gently 
lignt our way into the knowledge of their adored Maker ; 
if they point out, wdtb their silver rays, our path to his 
beatific presence. 

I gaz , I ponder, I ponder, I gaze ; and think ineffable 
things. — i roll an eye of awe and admiration. Again and 
again 1 repeat my ravished views, and can never satiate 
either my curiosity or my inquiry. I spring my thoughts 
inio this inmiense field, till even Fancy tires upon her 
wing. I find wonders ever new ; wonders more and 
more amazing. — Yet, after all my present inquiries, what 
a mere nothing do I know ; by all my future searches, 
how little shall I be able to learn, of those vastly distant 
suns, and their circling retinue of worlds '! Could I pry 
with Newton's piercing sagacity, or launch into his exten- 
sive surveys; even then my apprehensions would be little 
better, than those dim and scanty images, which the mole, 
just emerged from her caveni, receives on her feeble optic. 
This, sure, should repress all impatient or immoderate ar- 
dour, to pry into the secvets of the starry structures, and 
make me more particularly careiul to cultivate my heart. 
To fathom the depths of the Divine Essence, or to scan 
universal Nature with a critical exactness, is an attempt 
which sets the acutest philosopher very nearly on a level 
with the idiot ; since it is almost^ if not altogether, as 
impracticable oy the former, as by the latter. 

Be it, then, my chief study, not to pursue what is abso- 
lutely unattainable ; but rather to seek what is obvious to 
find, easy to be acquired, and of inestimable advantage 
when possessed. O I let me seek that charity which edi- 
iieth,* that faith which purifieth. Love, humble love, not 

* 1 Cor. viiT. 1. I need not itiforni imy reader, that in thistext, 
h\ Ihat admirable chapter, 1 Cgr, ^aii. and in various other passi^ 

C € 2 



518 



CONTEMPLATIOKS 



conceited science, keeps the door of Heaven. Faith, a 
child-like faith in Jesus ; not the haughty self-sufficient 
spirit, which scarns to be ignorant of any thing ; presents 
a key* to those abodes of bliss. — This present state is the 
scene destined to the exercise of devotion ; the invisible 
world is the place appointed for the enjoyment of knowl- 
edge. There the dawn cf our infantile minds will be ad- 
vanced to the maturity of perfect day ; or rather, there our 
iriidnight-shades will be brightened into all the lustre of 
noon. — There the souls which come from the school of 
faith, and bring with them the principles of love, will dwell 
in light itself; will be obscured with no darkness at all ; 
will know, even as they are known. t~Such an acquaint- 
ance, therefore, do I desire to form, and to carry on such a 
correspondence, v/ith the heavenly bodies, as may shed a 
benign influence on the seeds of grace implaiaed in my 
breast. Let the exalted tracts of the firmament sink my 
soul into deep humiliation. Let these eternal fires kindle 
in my heart an adoring gratitude to their Almighty Sove- 
reign. Let yonder penderous and enormous globes, which 
rest on his supporting arm, teach me an unshaken affiance 
in their incarnate Maker. Then shall I be — if not wise 
as the astronomical adept, yet wise unto salvation. 

Having now walked and worshipped in this universal 
temple^ that is arched with skies, emblazed with stars, and 
extended even to immensity : — Having cast an eye, like 
the enraptured patriarch-! an eye of reason and devotion, 
through the magnificent scene ; with the former, having 

ges of scripture, the word charity should by no means be confined 
to the particular a»t of alms-giving, or external beneficence It is 
of a tmuch more exalted and extensive nature. It signifies that di- 
vinely prec'Otis grace, which warms the soul with supreme love to 
God, and e^Iatges it with disinterested affection for men Which 
lenders it the reigning care of the life, and chief delight of the heart, 
to promote the happiness of the one, and the glory of the other. — 
This, this is that charity of which so many excellent things are eve- 
ly where spoken; which can never be too highly extolled, or too 
earnestly coveted, since it is the image of God, and the very spirit of 
Heaven. 

* The righteousness of Christ. This is what Milton beautifully 
sJyles, 

—The golden key, 

That opes fhepaUce of Eternity. 

%l Cor. ji\n* 12<i I Geti. xy. 5V 



ON Xna STARUY-HSAVSX3. 819 

discovered an infinitude of worlds ; and with the latter, 
having met ihc Deity in every view : — Having beheld, as 
Mobes in the flaming bush, a glimpse of Jehovah's ex- 
cellencies ! reflected from the several planets, and strea- 
ming from myriads ol celestial hiDiinaiies : — Having read 
vario'vS lessons in that stupendous book of wisdom,* wnere 
unmeasurabie sheets ot azure compose the page ; and 
orbs of radiance write in everlasting characters, a com- 
ment on, our creed : — What reniains, but that I close the 
midnight solemnity, as ouv Lord concluded his graiid sa- 
cramental mstituuon, witn a song of praise ? — Arid behold 
a hymn, suited to the sublime occasion, indited byf inspi- 
ration itself, transferred into our language, by one of the 
happiest efforts of human ingenuity. t 

The spacious firmament on high, 
With all the blue aetnereal sky, 
And spangled Heav'ns, a shining frame.) 
Their great Original proclaim : 
Th' unwearied sun, from day to day, 
Does his Creator's pow'r display ; 
And publishes to ev*ry land, 
The work of an Almighty hand. 

Soon as the ev'ning chades prevail, 
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale ; 
And nightly, to the list'ning earlh, 
Repeats the story of her birth : 
While all the stars, that round her burn, 
And all the planets in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings as they roll. 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What though, in solemn silence, all 
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ? 
What though nor real voice nor sound 
Amid their radiant orbs be found ? 
In Reason's ear they all rejoice^ 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
For ever singing, as they shine, 
The hand that made us, is Divine. 

♦—For Heaven 

Is as the book of God before thee set, 

Wherein to read his wondrous works. Milt. 

% Psal.xjx. jAddiJon, Spect* vch VL No, 465, 



A WINTER^PIECE. 



Sloniis and tempests may calm the soul — Snow and ice be 
taught 10 warm the heart and praise tiie Creator. 

Ano?ii!nious Leuer to the Author, See Xote. 



IT is true, in the delightful seasons. His tenderness and 
His love, are most eminently displayed. — In the vernal 
months, ail is beauty to the eye, and. music to the ear. 
The clouds drop fatness ; the' air softens into balm ; and 
iiowers, in abundai-ce, spring AVherever we tread, bloom 
wherever we look. — Amidst the burnihg heats of Sum- 
mer, He expands the leaves and thickens the shades. He 
spreads the cooling arbor to receive us, and awakes the 
gentle breeze to fan us. The moss swells into a couch, 
for the repose of our bodies ; while the rivulet softly rolisj 
and sweetly murmurs, to sooth our imagination. — In Aut- 
umn, His bounty covers the fields with a profusion of nu- 
tr^mental treasure, and bends the boughs with loads of 
delicious fruit. He furnishes his hospitable board with 
present plenty, and prepares a copious magazine for fu- 
ture v/ants.~ But is it only in these smiling periods of the 
year, that God, the all-gracious God is seen ? Has w^inter, 
stern Winter, no tokens of his presence ? Yes : All 
things are eloquent of his praise. " His way is in the 
v/hiriwind." Storms and tempests ftilfil his word, and ex- 
tol his power. Even piercing frosts bear witness to his 
goodness, while they bid the shivering nations tremble at 
his wrath. — Be Winter then, for a while, our theme.* 

^- A sketch of this nature, I must acknowledge, is quite dif- 
ferent from the subject of the book ; and, I camiot but declare, 
was as far distant from the thoughts of the author. But the 
desire of several acquaitatance, together with an intimation of 
its usefulness, by a very polite letter from an unknown hand, 
(which has designedly furnished me with the besi motto I could 
recollect) prevailed with me to add a few descriptive touchei?. 



A WINTER-PIECE. o2i 

Perhaps those barren scenes may be fruitful of intellectu- 
al improvement. Perhaps that rigorou^r coid, winch 
binds the earth in icy chains, may serve to eaivirge our 
hearts, and warm them witJi holy love. 

See! how the day is shortened ! — The sun, detained in 
fairer climes, or en^a^^ed in more agreeable services, ri- 
ses, like an unwilii .g visitant, with tardy and reluctant 
steps. He walks, wuh a shy indififc -ence, along the cages 
of the Southern sky ; casting an oblique glance, he last 
looks upon our dejecteiJ wovki ; and scarcely scatters 
light through the tnick air. Dim is his appearance, languid 
are his gleams, while he continues. Or, if he chance to 
wear a brighter aspect, and a cloudless brow ; yet, ilk© 
the young and gay in the house of mourning, he seems 

' uneasy till he is gone, is in haste to depart.- — And let him 
depart. Why should we wish for his longer ^tay, sirice 
he can shew us nothing but the creation in distress .'' The 
flowery families lie dead, and the tuneful tiib--s are struck 
dumb. The trees, stript of their verdure, aiid lashed by 

' storms, spread their naked arms to the enraged and relent- 
less Heavens. Fragrance no longer floats in the air ; but 
chilling damps hover, or cutting gaies blow. Nature, di- 
vested of all her beautiful robes, sits, like a forlorn discon- 
solate widow^, in her weeds. WiiiiO winds, i.i doleful ac- 
cents, howl ; and rains, in repeated showers, weep. 

We regret not, therefore, the speedy departure of the 
day. When the room is hung with funeral black, and dis- 
mal objects are all around ; who would desire to have 
the glimmerino: taper kept alive ? wliich can only disjov- 
er spectacles of sorrow, can only make the horror visible. 
— And, since this mortal life is little better that a continu- 
al conflict with sin, or an unremitted struggle v/ith mise- 
ry ; is it not a gracious ordination, Vv'hich has reduced our 
age to a span ? Fourscore years of trial, ior the virtuous, 
are sufficiently long ; and more than such a term allow- 
ed to the wicked, would render tbem beyond all measure 
\dle. O'-U' way to the kingdom of Heaven lies through 
tribulations^ Shall wc then accuse, shall we not rather 
bless, the Providence, -which has m?cde the passage she t ? 

and improviag hints, on what is so often experienced in these 
.J^ortliern regions I hope, the atlompt I hive made to oblige 
these Gentlemen, wir obtain the approbation, or at least tim 
escuse, of my other readers. 



B22 



A WINTER-PIECE. 



fv, 
IS' 

k 



Soon, soon we cross the vale of tears ; and then arrive an 
the happy hills,, where light for ever shines, where joy for 
ever smiles. 

Sometnnes the day is rendered shorter still ; is almost 
blotted out from the year.* The vapors gather ; they 
thicken into an impenetrable gloom, and obscure the face 
of the sky. At length,, the rains descend. The sluices 
of the firmament are opened ; and the low hung clouds 
pour their congregated stores. Copious and uniritermit- 
tcd,- still they pour, iind still are exhausted. Tne waters 
drop incessantly fi-om the eaves, and rush in rapid sti earns 
from the spouts. They roar along the chanriclled pave- 
ments, and staiid in foul shallows amidst the village streets. 
Now, if the inatte.itive eye, or negligent hai-d, has left the. 
r^oof but scantily covered ; the i;}sinu;;ting element finds 
its v/ay into every fiavv', and oozing through the ceiling, at 
once upbraids and chastises the careless inhabitant. The 
p'oughman soaked to the skin, leaves his hajf-tillcd acre* 
The poor poultry, dripping with wet, croud into shelter. 
The tenants of the bough fold up their wings, afraid to 
launch into the streaming air. The beasts, joyless and 
dispirited, run.inate under their sheds. The roads s-vvim, 
and the brooks swelL— The river, amidst all this watry 
ferment long contained itself within its appointed bounds : 
but svrollen by innumerable currents, and roused at last 
into uncontrollable rage^ bursts over its banks, shoots into 
the plain, bears down all opposition, spreads itself far and 
wide, and buries the meadows under a brown, sluggish, 
soaking deluge. 

How happy for man, that this inundation comes, when 
there arenotJowery crops intlie valley, to be overwhelm- 
ed; no fields standing thick with corn, to be laid w^aste ! 
At such a juncture, it would have been ruin to the hus- 
bandman and his family : but, thus timed, it yields ma- 
nure for his ground, and promises him riches in rever- 
sion.—How often, and how long, has the Divine Majesty 
bore Vviih the most injurious affronts from sinners ! His 
goodness triumphed over their perverseness, and gracious- 
ly refused to be exasperated. But. O presumptuous crea- 
tures ! multiply no longer your provocations. Urge not, 
by repeated iniquities, the Almighty arm to strike ; lest 

^' Involvere diem nimbi, et nox hiirnida coelum 
Abstulit — — fig. 







A WINTER-PIECE. 523 

his long sufTering cease, and his iierce anger break forth ; 
break torth like a flood of waters,* and sweep you away 
into irrecoverable and everlasting perdition. 

How mighty ! how majestic ! and O how mysterious 
are thy works, thou God cf Heaven, and Lord of Nature ? 
When the air is calm, where sleep the stormy winds ? In 
wliat chambers are they reposed, or in what dungeons 
confined! till thou art pleased to awaken their rage, and 
throw open their prison doors. Then, with irresistible 
impetuosity, they fly forth, scattering dread, and menav ing 
destruction. 

The atmosphere is hurled into the most tumultuous 
confusion. The serial torrent bursts its way o\er rioun- 
tains, seas, and continents. All things feel the dreadful 
shock. All things tremble before the furious blast. The 
forest, vexed and tore, groans under the scourge. Her 
sturdy sons are strained to the very root, and almost sweep 
the soil they were wont to shade. The stubborn oak, 
that disdains to bend, is dashed headlong to the ground ; 
and, with shattered arms, with prostrate trunk, blocks the 
road. — While the flexile reed, that springs up in the 
march, yielding to the gust (as the meek and pliant 
temper to injuries, or the resigned and patient spirit to 
misfortunes) eludes the force of the storm, and survives 
amidst the wide spread havock. 

For a moment the turbulent and outrageous sky seems 
to be assuaged ; but it intermits its wrath, only to increase 
its strength. Soon the sounding squadrons of the air re- 
turn to the attack, and renew their ravages with redoub- 
led fury. The stately dome rocks amidst the wheeflng 
clouds. The impregnable tower totters on its basis, and 
threatens to overwhelm whom it v/as intended to protect. 
The ragged rock is rent in pieces ;t and even the hills, 
the perpetual hills, on their deep foundations, are scarcely 
secure. — Where now is the place of safety ? when the ci- 
ty reels, and houses become heaps ! Sleep affrighted flies. 
Diversion is turned into horror. All is uproar in the ele- 
ments : all is consternation among mortals ; and nothing 
but one ^\'ide scene of rueful devastation through the land 
—Yet this is only an inferior minister of Divine displeas- 
ure;. the executioner of milder indignation. How then, 
— .O ! how will the lofty looks of man be bumbled, and 

*Hos.v. 10. tlKingsxix.il. 



324 A WINTER'PIECE. 

the haughtiness of raen be bowed down,* when the Lord 
Gvjd Oiiuiipotert shall mecjtate terror — when he shall set 
all his lerfors in array, — when he rises to judge the na- 
lionsvand to shake terribly the earth ! 

The ocear sn^ells with tremendous commotions. The 
ponderous waves are heaved from their capacious bed, 
and almost lay bare the unfathomable deep. Finnic, i 'to 
the "iiicst rapid agitation, they sweep over the rocks ; i- ey 
lash the lofty cliffs; and toss themselves into the cloi.ds. 
Navies are rent from their anchoi^ ; and, with all their e- 
normous load, are whirled swift as the an ow, wdid as the 
winds a^oDgthe vast abyss. — Now, they climb the rolling 
mountain ; they plough the frightful ridge ; and seem to 
skim the skies. Anon, they plunge ii.to the opening gulf; 
they lose the sight of day ; and arc Tost them.selveH to eve- 
ry eye. How vain is the pilot's ait I now impotent the 
mariner's strength ! they reel to and ho, and stagger in 
the jarring hold ; or cling to the cordage, W; ile bursting 
seas foam over the deck. Despair is in ev^ ry face, and 
death sits threatening on every surge. — But why, O ye 
astonished mariners ! why should you abanoon yourselves 
to despair ? Is the Lord's hand shortened, because the 
waves of the sea rage horribly : Is his ear deafened by 
the roaring thunders, and the behowing tempests ? Cry, 
cry, unto him, who " holdeth the winds in his fist, and the 
waters in the hollow of his hand." He is All-gracious to 
hear, and almighty to save. If he command, the storm 
shall be hushed to silence ; the billows shall subside into a 
calm ; the lightnings shall lay their fiery bolts aside ; andj 

* — Mortalia cor da 

Per gentcs, huroillis stravit paver. — • 

One would almost irriagiiie, that Virgil had read Isaiah, and bor- 
rowed his ideas fromcLap. ii. ver. 11. The humiilis and stravit 
of the one, so exactly correspond with the — humbled — -bowed 
down— of the other. But, in one circnmstance, the Prophet is 
very much superior to the poet. The Prophet, by giving a 
striking contrast to his sentiments, represents them with i .com- 
parably greater eoer y. He ^js not, men in the gross or the 
huma,n heart in general ; b«t men of the most elated looks, 
hearts big with tl^e most arrogant imaginations. Even these 
shall stoop from their superci;ious heights ; even these shall 
grovel in the dust of rhasement, and shudder with all the e!K- 
txemes ofan abject pusillanimity. 



A WINTER-PIECE. S25 

instead of sinking in a wateiy grave, you shall find your- 
selves brought to the desired haven. 

Sometime s> after a joyless day, a more dismal night 
succeeds. — The lazy, louring vapors had wove so thick a 
veil, as the meridian sun could scarcely penetrate. What 
gloom then must overwhelm the nocturnal hours 1 The 
'moon then withdraws her shining. Not a single star is a- 
ble to struggle through the deep arrangement of shades. 
All is pitchy daikness, without one enlivening ray. Ho\^ 
solemn ! how awful ! It is like the shroud of Nature, or 
the return of chaos. I do not wonder, that it is the parent 
of terrors, and so apt to engender melancholy. — Lately, 
the tempest marked its rapid way with mischief : noW 
the night dresses her silent pavilion with horror. 

I have sometimes left the beaming tapers, withdrawn 
from the ruddy fire, and plunged into the thickest of these 
sooty shades ; without regretting the change, rather ex- 
ulting in it as a w^elcome deliverance. The very gloom 
was pleasing, was exhilarathig, compared with the con- 
versation I quitted. The speech of my companions (how 
does it grieve me, that I should even once have occasion 
to call them by that name !) was the language of dark- 
ness ; was horror to the soul, and torture to the ear.*— 
Their teeth were spears and arrows, and their tongue a 
sharp sword to stab and assassinate their neighbor's char- 
acterc Their throat was an open sepulchre, gaping to de- 
vour the reputation of the innocent, or taintii>g the air with 
their virulent and polluted breath. — Sometimes their li- 
centious and ungovernable discourse shot arrows ofpro- 
faneness against Heaven itself; and, in proud defiance 
challenged the resentment of Omnipotence. — Sometimesi 

* What has been said, I ask'd my soul, what done ? 
How flow'd our mirth ? or whence the source ^egun ? 
Perhaps, the jest, that charm'd the sprightly croud, 
And made the jovial table laugh so loud, 
To some false notion ow'd its poor pretence, 
To an imbiguous word's pei^verted sense ; 
To a wild sonnet, or a wanton air, 
Offence and torture to the sober ear. 

Perhaps, alas ! the pleasing stream Was brought 
From this man's error, from another's fault ; 
From topics, which good-nature would forget, 
And prudence mention with the last regceU-^Prior^s SoL 
Dd 



326 A WINTER-PIECE.^ 

as if it was tl\e glory of human nature to cherish the gros- 
sest appetites of the brute ; or the mark of a gentleman, 
to have served an apprenticeship in a brothel ; the filthi- 
est jests of the stews (if low obscenity can be a jest) were 
nauseously obtruded on the company. All the modest 
part were offended and grieved ; while the other besotted 
creatures laughed aloud, though the leprosy of uncleanli- 
ness appeared on their lips. — Are not these persons pris- 
oners of darkness, though blazing scones pour artificial 
day through their rooms t Are not their souls immured 
in the most baleful shades, though the noon- tide sun is 
brightened by flaming on their gilded chariots ?— They 
discern not that great and adorable Being, who fills the u- 
niverse with his infinite and glorious presence ; who is 
all eye, to observe their actions, — all ear, to examine their 
words. They know not the All-sufficient Redeemer, nor 
the unspeakable blessedness of his heavenly kingdom. 
They are groping for the prize of happiness, but will cer- 
tainly grasp the thorn of anxiety. They are wantonly 
sporting on the brink of a precipice; and are every mo- 
ment in danger of falling headlong into irretrievable ruin, 
and endless despair. 

They have forced me out, and are, perhaps, deriding 
me in my absence ; are charging my reverence for the 
ever-present God, and my concern for the dignity of our 
rational nature, to the account of humor, and singularity ; 
to narrowness of thought, or sourness of temper. Be it 
so. I will indulge no indignation against them. If any 
thing like it should arise, I will convert it into prayer. 
'* Pity them, O thou Father of mercies ? shew them ths 
** madness of their profaneness ! shew them the baseness 
" of their vile ribaldry ! Let their dissolute rant be turned 
*' into silent sorrow and confusion ; till they open their lips 
*' to adore thine insulted Majesty, and to implore thy gra- 
*' cious pardon. — Till they devote to thy service, those so- 
*' cial hourst and those superior fa' ulties, which they are 
*' now abusing:, to the dishonor of thy name, to the con- 
*' tamination of their own souls, and (unless timely repent- 
*' ance intervene) to their everlasting infamy and perdi- 
«tion." 

I ride home amidst the gloomy void. All darkling 
and solitary, T can scarce discern my horse's head ; and 
only guess out my blind road. No compaiiion, but dan- 



A WINTER. PIECE. 327 

ger ; or, perhaps, " destruction ready at my side.'** But 
why do I fancy myself solitary ? Is not the Father of 
lights, the God of my life, the great and everlasting 
friend, always at my right hand ? Because the day is ex- 
cluded, is his omnipresence vacated r Though I have no 
earthly acquaintance near, to assist in case of a misfor« 
tar.e, or to bcjguile the time, and divert uneasy suspicions, 
by entertaining conferences ; may I not lay my help up* 
on tne Almighty, and converse with God by humble sup- 
plication I For this exercise no place is improper, no 
hour unseasonable, and no postufe incommodious. This 
is society, the best of society, even in solitude. This is a 
fund of deliglits easily portable, and quiie inexhaustible. 
A treasure this of unknown value ; liable to no hazard 
from wrong or robbery ; but perfectly secure to the lone- 
ly wanderei', in the most darksome paths. 

And why should I distress mysell with apprehensions 
of peril ? Fhis access to God is not only an indefeasible 
privilege, but a kind of a.f^alatory garrison : Those who 
make k<iown their requests unto God, and rely upon his 
protecting care ; he gives his angels charge over their 
welfare. His angels are commissioned to escort them in 
their travellings ; and to hold up their goings, that they 
dash not their foot against a stone.f Nay, he himself con- 
descends to be their guardian, and " keeps all their bones, 
so that not one of them is broken." Between these per- 
sons, and the most mischievous object, a treaty of peace 
is concluded. The articles of this grand alUance are re- 
corded in the book of Revelation ; and will, when it is for 
the real benefit of believers, assuredly be made good in 
the administration of Providence. In that day, saith the 
Lord, will I m.^ke a covenant for them with the beasts of 
the field, and with the fowls of Heaven, and with the crea- 
ping things of the ground ; and they shall be in league 
with the stones of the field4 Though they fall headlong 
on the flints, even the flints, fitted to fracture the skull, 
shall receive them as into the arms of friendship, and not 
oft;;r to hart whom the Lord is pleased to preserve. 

Muy I then enjoy the presence of this gracious God, 
and darkness and light sliall be both alike. Let him 
whisper peace to my conscience ; and this dread silence 
shall be more charming than the voice of eloquence, or 

^ Jobxviii. 12. t Psal. xci. 11, 12. J Job r. ^, 



^28 A WINTER-PIKOE. 

the strains of music. Let him reveal his ravishing per- 
lections in my soul ; and I shall not want the saffron beau- 
ties of the morn, the golden glories of noon, or the impur- 
pled evening-sky. I shall sigh only for those most desir- 
able and distinguished realms, where the light of his coun- 
tenance perpetually shines, and consequently " there is 
iio night there."* 

How surprising are the alterations of Nature ! I left 
her, the preceding evening, plain and unadorned. But 
now a thick rime has shed its hoary honors over all. It 
lias shagged the fleeces of the sheep, and crisped the tra- 
veller's locks. The hedges are richly fringed, and all the 
ground is profusely powdered. The downward branches 
are tasselled with silver, and the upright are feathered 
with the plumy wave. 

The fine are not always the valuable. The air, amidst 
all these gaudy decorations, is charged with chilling and 
unwholesome damps. The raw hazy influence spreads 
%vide ; sits deep ; hangs heavy and oppressive on the 
springs of J'^f^. ^ listless ianguor ciogs the animal func- 
tions, and the purple stream glides but faintly through its 
channels. In vain, the ruler of the day exerts his bea^ 
aning powers : In vain, he attempts to disperse this insur- 
rection of vapors. The sullen, malignant cloud refuses 
to depart. It envelopes the world, and intercepts the 
prospect. I look abroad for the neighboring village ; I 
send my eye in quest of the rising turret ; but am scarce 
able to discern the very next house. Where are the blue 
arches of Heaven ? Where is the radiant countenance of 
the sun ? where the boundless scenes of creation? Lost, 
lost are their beauties ; quenched their glories. The 
thronged theatre of the universe seems an empty void ; 
and all its elegant pictures, an undistinguishable blank. — 
Thus would it have been with our intellectual views, if 
the gospel had not come in to our relief. We should 
have known neither our true good, nor real evil. We 
had been a riddle to ourselves ; the present state all con- 
fusion, and the future impenetrable darkness. But the 
Sun of Righteousness, arising with potent and triumph- 
ant beams, has dissipated the interposing cloud ; has o- 
pened a prospect more beautiful than the blossoms of 
fija'ing, more cheering than the treasures of Autumn, and 

* Rev, xxi. 25. 



A WIKTER-PIECE. i^9 

&r more enlarged than the extent of the visible system ; 
which, having led the eye ot the mind throjagn fields of 
grace, over nveis of righteousness, and hihs crowned 
with knowledge, terminau-s, at iengtn, in the Heavens ; 
sweetly losing itself in regions of infinite bliss, and end- 
less glory. 

As I walk along the f:jg, it seems, at some little dis-^ 
tance, to be almost solid gioom, such as would shut out 
every glimpse of light, and totally imprison me in obscuri- 
ty. But when I approach, and enter it, I find myself a^ 
greeably mistaken, and the mist much thinnfer than it ap- 
peared- — Such is the case \vith regard to the sufferings of 
the present life ; they are not, when experienced, so 
dreadful as a timorous imagination surmised. Such also 
is the case with reference to the gratifications of sense ; 
they prove not when enjoyed, so substantial as a sanguine 
expectation represented. In both instances we are gra- 
ciously disappointed. The keen edge of the calamity is 
blunted, that it may not wound us with incurable anguish : 
the exquisite relish of the prosperity is palled, that it may 
not captivate our affections, aud enslave them to inferior 
delights. 

Sometimes the face of things wears a more pleasing 
form ; the very reverse of the foregoing. The sober eve- 
ning advances, to close the short-lived day. The fir: la- 
ment, clear and unsullied, puts on its brightest blue. The 
stars, in thronging multitudes, and with a peculiar bril-' 
liancy, glitter through the fair expanse ; while the frost 
pours its subtil and penetrating influence all around, 
Shai'p and intensely severe, all the long night, the rigid se- 
ther continues its operations. When, late and slow, the 
morning opens her pale eye, in what a curious and amu- 
sing disguise is Nature dressed ! The icicles, jagged and 
uneven, are pendent on the houses. A whitish film in- 
crusts the wmdows, where mimic landscapes rise, and 
fancied figures swell. The fruitful fields are hardened to 
iron ; the moistened meadows are congealed to marble ; 
and both resound (an effect unknown before) with the pea- 
sant's hasty tread. The stream is arrested in its career, 
and its overfi9wing surface chained to the banks. The 
fluid paths become a solid road; where the finny shoals 
were wont to rove, the sportive youth ^UdCj .gr th^e x^p 
D d2j 



330 



A WINTER-PIECEc 



tii..g chariots roll.* And (what would seem, to an inhab* 
itaiit ui liiC Souvhern world, as unaccountable as the deep- 
en r Uiysteries of our leiigion) that very same breath of 
Hr-avcn, Which cements tne lakes into a crystal pave- 
meut. tiv^aves the uaks as it were with invisible wedges : 
*' breaks in pieces the Northern iron, and the steei ; e- 
ven while it builds a bridge of icy rock over the seas/'t 

7'he dir is ail serenity. Refined by the nitrous particlesi 
^it affords the most distinct views, and extensive prospects. 
~7iie seeds of infection are killed ; and the pestilence de- 
stroyed, even in embryo. So the cold of affliction tends 
to mortify our corruptions, and subdue our vicious habits. 
—The Clouding atmosphere constringes our bodies, and 
braces our nerves. The spirits are buoyant, and sally 
briskly on the execution of their office. In the summer- 
months, such an unclouded sky, and so bright a surt, 
would have melted us with heat, and softened us into su- 
pineness. We should have been ready to throw our 
limbs under the spreading beach, and to lie at ease by the 
murmuring brook. But now none loiters in his path ; 
none is seen with folded arms. All is in motion ; all is 
activity. Choice, prompted by the weather, supplies the 
spur of necessity. Thus, the rugged school of misfor- 
tune often trains up the mind to a vigorous exertion of its 
faculties. The bleak climate of adversity often inspirits 
tis with a manly resolution ; when a soft and downy afflu- 
ence, perhaps, would have relaxed all the generous springs 
of the soul, and have left it enervated with pleasure, or 
dissolved in indolence. 

'* Cold cometh out of the north."j: The winds, having 
swept those deserts of snow, arm themselves with mil- 
lions of frozen particles, and make a tierce descent upon 

* Concrescunt subito current! in flumine crustae ; 
Udaque jam tergo ferratos sustinet orbes, 
Puppibus ilia prius patulis, nunc hospita plaustris, 
^raque dissiliunt vulgo. Firg, 

t Job xxxviii. 30. The waters are hid, locked up from tl^ 
©at tie's lips, and secured from tiie fisher's net, as wells were 
wont to be closed with a ponderous and impenetrable stone. 
And not only lakes and rivers, but the surface of the great deep 
with its restless and uucontroJlabJe surges, is taken captiye bv 
the frost aud houjad in shining fetters. 

I Job xjSYii. 9* 



A 'WINT£R.PIE'CE. 531 

our isle. Under black and scowling clouds, they drive, 

dreadfully whizzing, through the darkened air. They 
growl around our houses ; assault our doors ; and, eager 
for entrance,^ fasten on our wincows* Walls can scaice 
restrain them ; bars are unabie to eiude them ; through 
every cranny they force their way. Ice is on their wings ; 
they scatter agues through the land^ and Winter, all 
Winter rages as they go. Their breath is as a searing* 
iron to the Tittle verdure left in the plains. Vasily more 
pernicious to the tender plants than the sharpest knife, 
they kill their branches and wound the very root. Let 
not the corn venture to peep too freely from the entrench- 
ment of the furrow^; let not the iruit-bearing blossoms 
^are to come abroad from their lodgment in the bai'k; 
lest these murderous blasts intercept and seize the unwa- 
ry strangers, and destroy the hopes of the advaneing year. 
O, it is severely cold ! Who is so hardy, as not to shrink 
at this excessively pinching weather ? See ! every face is 
pale. Even the blooming cheeks contract a gelid hue, 
and the teeth hardly forbear chattering.- --Ye that sit easy 
and joyous, amidst your commodious apartments, solacing 
yourselves in tie diffusive warmth of your fire, be mind- 
ful of your brethren, in the cheerless tenement of poverty. 
Their shattered panes are open to the piercing winds; a 
tattered garment scarcely covers their shivering flesh ; 
while a few faint and dying embers on the squalid heaith, 
rather mock their wishes, than warm their limbs. — While 
the generous juices of Oporto sparkle hi your glasses ; or 
the streams, beautifully tinged and deliciousiy flavored 
with the Chinese leaf, smoke in the elegant porcelain ; O 
remember, that many of your fellow-creatures, amidst all 
the rigor of these inclement skies, are emaciated with 
sickness, benumbed with age. and pined with hunger. 
Let '' their loins bless you" for comfortable clothing. 
Restore them with medicine; regale them with food; 
and baffle the raging year. So m?y you never know any 
of their distrc^sses, but only by the hearing of the ear, the 

* This, I suppose, is the meaning of that figurative expres- 
sion used by the prophet Habakiui^ ; wlw. speaking of the 
Chaldeans invadiag Jiidea, says, — 2 i^eir faces, or ihe incjrsioa 
they make, shall sup up, shall swallow greedily, shall devour ut- 
terly, the mhabitants of tiie country, and their valuable eaects ; 
as the keen, corrodiag bJasvs of the East wind destroy every 
green thing in the field. Hab. i. 9. 



3S2 A WINTER-PIECE. 

seeing of the eye, ov the feeling of a tender commisera' 
tion ! — Methinks the bitter blustering winds plead for the 
poor indigents. ^Jay they breathe pity into your breasts, 
while they blow hardships into their huts! — Observe 
• those blue fiannesj and ruddy coals in your chimney : 
Quickeiied by the cold, they look more lively, and glow 
more strongly. Silent, but seasonable admonition, to the 
gay circle, that chat and smile around them ! Thus may 
your hearts, at such a juncture of need, kuidle into a pe- 
culiar benevolence t Detain not your superfluous piles of 
wood. Let them hasten to the relief of the starving fam- 
ily. Bid them expiry in many a willing blaze, to miti- 
gate the severity of the season, and cheer the bleak a- 
bodes of want. So shall they ascend, mingled with thanks- 
givings to God, and ardent prayers for your weliare ; — 
ascend, more grateful to Heaven than columns of the 
most costly incense. Now the winds cease. Having 
brought their load, they are dismissed from service. 
They have wafted an immense cargo of clouds, which 
empty themselves in snow. At first, a few scattered 
shreds come wandering down the saddened sky. This 
slight skirmish is succeeded by a general onset. The 
flakes, large, and numerous, and thick-wavering descend. 
They dim the air, and hasten the approach of night. 
Through all the night, in softest silence, and with a con- 
tinual flow, this fleecy shower falls. In the morning, 
when we awake, what a surprising change appears !-^ 
Is this the same world ? here is no diversity of color! 
I can hardly distinguish the trees from the hills on which 
they grow. Which are the meadows, and which the 
plains ? Where are the green pastures, and where thO' 
fallow lands ? All things lie blended in bright confusion ; 
so bright, that it heightens the splendor of day, and even 
dazzles the organs of sight. — The lawn is not so fair, as 
this snowy mantle, which invests the fields ; and even the 
lily* was the lily to appear, would look tarnished in its pre- 
sence. I can think of but one thing, which excels or e- 
quals the glittering robe of Winter. Is any person desir- 
ous to know my meaning ? He may find it explained in 
that admirable hymn,* composed by the Royal Penitent. 

* Can any thing be whiter than snow ? Yes, saith David ; If 
God be pleased to wash me from my sins in the blood of Christ, 
I shall be even whiter than snow. PsaL ii. 7, 



A WINTER-PIBCE. SSo 

Is any desirous to possess this matchless oraament? He 
will find it offered to his acceptance in every page of the 
gospel. 

See! (for the eye cannot satisfy itself without viewing 
again and again the curious, the delicate scene) see ! how 
the hedges are habited, like spotless vestals ! The houses 
are roofed with uniformity and lustre. The meadows are 
covered with a carpet ot the fiilest ermine.* The groves 
bow beneath the lovely burden ; and all, all below, is one 
wide, immense, shining waste of white. — By deep snows 
and heavy rains, God seaieth up the banc! of every man ; 
and for this purpose, adds our sacred philosopher, that all 
men may know his work,t he confines them within their 
doors, and puts a stop to their secular business, that they 
may consider the things which belong to their spiritual 
welfare ; that, having a vacation from their ordinary em- 
ploy, they may observe the works of his povv^er, and be- 
come acquainted with the mysteries of his grace. 

And worthy, worthy of all observation, are the works 
of the great Creator. They are prodigiously various, and 
perfectly amazing. How pliant and ductile is Nature un- 
der his forming hand! At his command, the self-same 
substance assumes the most different shapes, and is trans- 
formed into an endless multiplicity of figures. If he or- 
dains, the water is moulded into hail, and discharged upon 
the earth like a volley of shot ; or it is consolidated into 
ice, and defends the rivers, '* as it were with a breast 
plate." At the bare intimation of his will, the very same 
element is scattered in hoarfrost, like a sprinkling of the 
most attenuated ashes ; or is spread over the surface of 
the ground, in these couches of sv, elling and flaky down. 

The snow, however it may carry the appearance of cold, 
affords a warm garment for the corn ; screens it from 
fiipping frosts, and cherishes its infant growth. It will a- 
bide for a while, to exert a protecting care, and exercise 
a fostering influence. Then, touched by the sun, or thaw- 
ed by a softening gale, the furry vesture m.elts into gen- 
ial moisture; sinks deep into the soil, and saturates its 

* This animal is milk-white. As for those black spots, we 
generally see in linings of ermine, they are added by the farrier, 
in order to diversify the appearance, or heighten the beauty, of 
tiie 4iative color. v 

t Job xxxvii. 7. 



334 



A WINTER-PIECE. 



pores with the dfS^solving nitre ; replenishing the globe 
with those principlesof vegetative lite, \^hich will open in- 
to the bloom oi Spring, and ripen iuo the fruits ot Aut- 
umn. — Beautifal emblem this, and comfortable represent- 
ation of the Divine word, both in the successful and ad- 
vantageous issue of its operation ! As the rain cometh 
down, and the snow from heaven, and returning not thith- 
er, but watering the earth, and luaketh it bring forth and 
bud, that it nv\y give seed to the sower, and bread to tne 
eater : so snail my vvord be, that goeth forth out of my 
m^uth : It shall not return unto me void, but shall accom- 
plish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing 
where to I sent it.* 

\ Nature, at length puts off her lucid veil. She drops it 
in y trickling thaw. The loosening snow rolls in sheets 
from the houses. Various openings spot the hills; which, , 
even while we iookj become larger, and more numerous. 
The trees rid themselves, by degrees, of the hoary in- 
cumbrance™Sho(jk from the springing boughs, part falls 
heovytothe ground, part flies abroad in shining atoms. 
Our fields and girdens, lately buried beneath the drifted 
heaps, rise pUiin and di'^tir-ct to view. — Since we see Na- 
ture once again, has she no verdant traces, no beautiful 
features left ? They are, like real friends, very rare ; and 
therefore, the more particularly to be regarded the more 
highly to be valued. — Here and there the Holly hangs out 
her glowing berries ; the Laurustinus spreads her grace- 
ful tufts ; and both under a covert of unfading foliage.— 
The plam, but hard ivy, clothes the decrepid, crazv wail; 
nor shrinks from the friendly office, though the skies 
frown, and the storm roars. — The Laurel, firnci. erect and 
bald, expands its leaf of vivid green. In spite of the uni- 
ted, the repeated attacks of wind, and rain, and frost, it 
preserves an undismayed Uvely look ; and maintains its- 
post, while withering millions fall around. Worthy, by 
vanquishing the rugged force of Winter, worthy to adorn 
the triumphant conqueror's brow.^ — Nor must I forget the 
Bay-tree ; which scorns to be a mean pensioner on a few 
transient sunny gleams ; or, v/ith a servile obsequious- 
ness, to vary its appearance, in conformity to the changing 
seasons : by such indications of sterling worth, and 
staunch resolution, reading a lecture to the poet's genius, 
wliileit weaves the chaplet for his temples. — These, and a 

* Isa.lv. 10, II. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 335 

few other plants,xlad with native verclure,retain their couie- 
ly aspect, in the blealtest climes, and injthe cokiestiuojiths. 

Such, and so durable, are the accomplishmenis of a re- 
fined understanding, and a refined temper. The tawdry 
ornaments of dress, which catch the unthiiiking- vuigar, 
soon become insipid and despicable. The rubied lip, and 
the rosy cheek, fade. Even the sparkling wit,* as well as 
the sparkling eye, please but for a moment. But the vir- 
tuous mind has charms, which survive the decay of every 
inferior embellishment ; chai^ms, which add to the fra- 
grancy of the flower, the permanency of the ever-green. 

Such, likewise, is the happiness of the sincerely reli- 
gious ; like a tree, says the inspired moralist, " whose leaf 
shall not fall." He borrows not his peace from external 
circumstances ; but has a fund within, and is " satisfied 
from himselft." Even though impoverished by calamitous 
accidents, he is rich in the possession of grace, and richer 
in the hope of glory. His joys are infinitely superior to, 
as well as nobly independent on, the tran5:itory glow of 
sensual delight, or the capricious favors ot what the world 
calls Fortune. 

* ' How little does God esteem things that men count great : 
** the endowments of wit and eloquence, that men admire in 
** some I He respecteth not any who are wise in heart : They 
*' are nothing, and less than nothing in his eyes. Even wise 
*' men admire, how little it is that men know ; how small a 
" matter lies under the sound of these popular v/onders, a lear- 
*' ned man, a great scholar, a great statesman. How mAich 
^' more doth the all-wise God meanly account of these ? He of- 
•' ten discovers even to the world their meanness. He befools 
'* them. So valor, or birth, or worldly greatness, these he 
^ gives, and gives as things he makes no reckoning of, to such as 
•* shall never see his face ; and calls to the inheritance of glory 
"** poor despised creatures, that are looked on as the oft-scour- 
** ings and refuse of the world." 

— Thus, says an excellent author ; who writes with the 
most amiable spirit of benevolence ; with the most unaifected 
air of humiUty ; and, like the sacred origuials. from which he 
copies, with a majestic simplicity of style.— Whose select works 
I may venture to recommen«j, not only as a treasure, but as a 
mine of genuine, sterling, evangelical piety .— Fee page 520. of 
Archbishop Leighton's Select Works, the ^ dinburgh editjon, 
octavo. Which it is necessaiy to specify, ^t^ luse theLordoa 
edition does not contain that part of his writings which has sup« 
jplied me with the preceding quotation, 
f Prov, xiv. 14. 



3o6 A WINTER-PIECE. 

If the snow composes the light armed troopfe of the sky, 
methinks the haii constitutes its heavy ^rtilieiy.* When 
driven by a vehement wind, with what dreadful impetuos- 
ity does that stony shower fall ! How ii rebounds fi orn the 
frozen ground, and rattles on the resounding dome ! it at- 
tenuates the rivers into smoke, or scourges them into 
foam. It crushes the infant- flowers ; cuts in pieces the 
gardener's early plants ; and batters the feeble fortifica- 
tion of his glasses into shivers. It darts into the traveller's 
face : He turns, with haste from the stroke ; or feels, on 
his cheek, for the gushing blood. If he would retreat in- 
to the house, it follows him thither ; and, like a determin- 
ed enemy, that pushes the pursuit, dashes through the 
crackling panes. — But the fierce attack is quickly over. 
The clouds have soon spent their shafts ; soon unstrung 
their bow. — Happy for the inhabitants of the earth, that a 
sally so dreadfully furious, should be so remarkably short ! 
What else could endure the shock, or escape destruction ! 

But, behold a bow, of no hostile intention ! a bow, pain- 
ted in variegated colors, on the disburdened cloud. How 
vast is the extent, how delicate the texture, of that show- 
ery arch 1 It compasseth the Heavi^ns with a glorious 
circle, and teaches us to forget the horrors of the storm. 
Elegant its form, and rich its tinrtures ; but more delight- 
ful its sacred significancy. Wliiie the violet and the rose 
blush injts beautiful aspect, the olive-branch smiles in its 
gracious import. It writes, in radiant dyes, what the an- 
gels sung in harmonious strains; " Peace on earth and 
good will towards men." It is the stamp of insurance, 
for the continuance of seed-time and harvest ; for the pre- 
servation and security of the visible world.f It is the 
comfortable tokeu^: of a better state, and a happier king- 
dom ; — a kingdom, where sin shall cease, and misery be 
abolished ; where storms shall beat, arid Winter pie: ce no 
inore ; but holiness, happmess, and joy, like one unboun- 
ded Spring, for ever, ever bloom. 

"^ He casteth fortJihis ire like morsels, Psal. cxirii. 17. Which 
in modern language, might be thus expressed : K? poureth bis 
hail like a volley of shot. The word inadequately translated 
morsels, alludes, I think, to those fragments of tiie roek. or 
those smooth stones from the brook, which, in the day of battle, 
the warriors hurried from their slings. 

t Gen. ix. 12,-16. t Rev. yi. 3. 



THE END. 



gm 



THE COMMON SCHOOL. 

BY P. FAYEBWEATHER. 

The pride of princes if not there, 
Their forms of richer birth ; 

Unmeaning fashions, light as air, 
Aye far beneath its worth. 

The glory of the chieftain's plume, 

Is not held forth to view ; 
Vile mockery to thus presume, 

In teaching Virtue true. 

The devotees of fashion's mart — 

The richest boon of state, 
Betrays a senseless, empty hearty 

By fools alone called great. 

These shadows of a vacant mind. 

Are all excluded here ; 
They leave earth's noble walkll^ehind, 

A higher dome to rear. 

A base on which the mind can rest 

And to w'r above the skies ; 
And clothed in Heaven's pure azure vest, 

May ever apward rise. . 

The poor, so call'd, by men of wealth, 

The lower, common train, 
Are raised beyond these men of stealth 

In Intellect's domain. 

They here are taught that mental lore 

Creates the man of fame ; 
Without gold in ample store, 

Is nothing but a name. 

Here is the lever sages sought, 
Whose weight is menta' right; 

Its fulcrum, human mind unboughtj 
Its force, true wisdom's light. 

With this, and dilligence profound, 
The moral world would bend ; 

Degrading pageantry around, 
Bmpir'd in guilt shall rend. 

Then every teacher to his post. 

Lead on the mighty van ; 
To you's consigned earth's mighty host, 

O teach them what is MAN ! 
Greenfield Hill, Dec. 1848. 



MY CROSS. 



BY MES. C. E. E. PAEKEE. 



It is not heavy, agonizing woe, 

Bearing me down ^sith hopeless, crushing weight, 
No ray of comfort in the gathering gloom, 

A heart bereaved, a household desolate. 

It is not sickn-jss, with her withering hand, 
Keeping me low npon a eonch of pain ; 

Longing each morning for the weary night, 
At night, for weary day to "come again. 

It is not poverty, vrith. chilling blast, 

The sunken eye, the hnngtr-wastecl form ; 

The dear oi» ^s perishing for lack of bread, 
AVith no safe shelter from the winter's storm. 

It is not slander, ^rith her evil tongue ; 

'Tis no "presumptuous sin" against my God ; 
Not reputation lost, or friends betrayed : 

That such is not my cross, I thank thee, Loi'd. 

Mne is a daily cross of petty cares, 
Of little duties pressing on my heart, 

Of little troubles hard to reconcile. 

Of iijLward struggles, overcome in part. 

My feet are weary in their daily rounds, 

My heart is weary of its daily care. 
My sinfal nature often doth rebel ; 

I pray for gi-ace my daily cross to bear. 

It is not heavy, Lord, yet oft I pine ; 

It is not heavy, but 't is ever here : 
By day and night each hour my cross I bear, 

I dare not lay it down ; thou laidst it there. 

I dare not lay it down. I only ask 
That, taking up my daily cross, I may 

FoUow my Master, humbly, step by step. 

Through clouds and darkness, unto perfect day. 



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